Ginger Tea and Apologies
by PteraWaters
Summary: After a drunken hook-up, Puck finds himself in a bad way and he can't remember who was there with him… Kurt remembers the night in question, but is sure if he mentions it to anyone, Puck will kill him. Dead. Slash, Mpreg, Top!Kurt mentioned
1. For Keeps

**Chapter 1 - For Keeps**

Kurt turned over in his sleep and groaned as pain sliced through the base of his skull. Opening his mouth, he groaned again at how dry and bitter it tasted. Then, snuggling a little further away from the edge of the bed, he ran into something warm and breathing.

"Oh, god!" he cried, falling off the mattress and opening his eyes, whipping around to see who the hell was there. And where was Kurt, anyway? White four-poster bed? Hideously yellow walls? More gold stars than a kindergarten classroom? "Rachel's room?" Oh, sweet Versace! Had Kurt slept with Rachel last night? But why? Kurt found her the opposite of attractive. Like, if he ever got a boyfriend (looking at you, Blaine) and had the whole "arriving early" problem, Kurt was pretty sure thinking about Rachel in her underwear would be better than a cold shower.

Digusted not only by his location and probable bed partner, but by his apparent lack of clothes, Kurt found his pants and pulled them on before getting the courage to actually rise above crouching and look at who was on the bed. Whoever it was had a big, muscular back, so at least it was probably a guy. Snooping a little further, Kurt saw his shirt under the guy's pillow. Crap. Carefully, he leaned on the bed, reaching for his shirt and trying not to disturb whoever it was. Sure, probably having had sex last night was supposed to be cool or whatever, but Kurt felt absolutely mortified that he remembered none of it. He almost had enough of a reach to grab the shirt, but not quite. Sighing quietly, Kurt crawled a little further and found himself staring at the back of a dark-brunet Mohawk.

"Oh, shit!" Kurt hissed, slowly pulling his shirt out from under the guy as a slew of images pounded through his brain: being tipsy and falling in someone's lap, Puck leading him upstairs to go puke, Puck checking up on him later and much more drunk, making out because apparently Puck was a horny drunk (and so was Kurt), going down on Puck for awhile (oh, so that was that taste), and then ... sex. Except Kurt was pretty sure he had to be remembering it wrong, right? There was no way Puck had let Kurt do that, right? Absolutely no way Puck had wanted to be fucked and had practically blackmailed Kurt into doing it.

And now what about when Puck woke up, sober? What would he do to Kurt once he remembered why he was naked and why his ass felt funny? He would kill Kurt, right? Or at least kick his butt worse than he ever had before. Crap!

Fighting down the urge to cry, Kurt pulled on his shirt and grabbing his shoes, slipped out of Rachel's bedroom, scrabbling his hands over his hair to try to make some sense of it. Now, he just had to find his coat, which had his license and his car keys. Oh, and he should probably bring Finn home, too, now that he thought about it. Wouldn't want to show up on the walk of shame alone, now would he?

Trying desperately not to think about the boy in Rachel's room, Kurt found his coat in the front hall closet and his stepbrother wrapped around a still-sleeping Rachel. They were blissfully clothed, though Finn was wearing Rachel's shirt and Rachel Finn's which didn't work out so well for the giant. Rolling his eyes, Kurt found Finn's jacket and a package of Oreos from the pantry. "Finn!" he whispered, dangling the cookie in front of the boy's nose. "Time to get up, Finn!"

"Mmrrr school?"

"Yeah, sure," Kurt sighed, pulling the cookie away, which Finn followed until he was mostly standing. Wrapping the coat around Finn's shoulders and ignoring his splitting headache, Kurt got the both of them back home and in bed even before their parents woke up. Thank the universe for small mercies.

Kurt's note to himself as he took two pain pills and a full glass of water before showering and getting back into bed: get tested ASAP. Who knew what sort of infections a man-whore like Puck had been carrying around.

How could he have been so stupid? And how much longer did he have left before Puck tracked him down and killed him?

* * *

"Puck!" a voice shrieked and Puck was pretty sure it had to be a harpy or a she-demon the way that voice made him wince in pain. Or maybe it was his mother. Opening his eyes, Puck found himself face-to-face with a very pissed-off Rachel Berry.

Realizing that he was in her room and naked in her bed, Puck whispered, "Hey, babe," his voice dry and harsh before he cleared the sleep from his throat. "Did we fuck last night or something?"

"God, no!" she cried, pushing a pair of pants in his face and turning towards the wall so she wouldn't have to watch him put them on. "I slept downstairs with Finn," she shrugged.

"I thought he hated you," Puck snorted, pulling on his pants and rubbing the stubble on his head with a flat hand. Why did it feel so weird to be sitting up?

"We came to an understanding," she sniffed. "Are you dressed yet?"

"Yeah," Puck said, zipping up his fly and grabbing his shirt from the floor, along with a pair of men's boxer briefs that he didn't exactly recognize, but they sure as shit weren't Rachel's, right?

"Say," he asked as he left Rachel's room hopefully to track down his Converse somewhere, "d'you know who was up here with me?"

"Oh, my god!" Rachel just about shrieked, slamming the door in his face and then yelling at him through it. "You don't even know who you had sex with in my bed? Noah Puckerman, you are dead to me until you buy me all new sheets. And pillows! And a comforter because, ewwww!"

"Fan-freaking-tastic," Puck muttered, gathering his things and poking Mike about eighteen times with his shoe until the guy woke and said that yes, please he would like a ride home.

In the car, Puck asked his friend, "Do you know who I hooked up with last night? I can't seem to remember."

"I don't know," Mike shook his head, examining his bloodshot eyes in the vanity mirror. "After the Cheerios showed up and then all those people from Lima West, it was kinda hard to keep track of everyone."

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Puck told Mike, "Either the chick had a weird thing for my ass, or I slept with a dude."

"What?" Mike cried and Puck felt like the guy's voice wouldn't stop rattling around in his head, karate-chopping his gray matter.

"Keep it down, asshat!" Puck hissed. "Kinda hung-over here."

"I just," Mike shrugged, flipping his visor up, "didn't know you were cool with sleeping with guys. Not that I'm interested or anything!"

"I'm a sex shark," Puck boasted as an explanation. "I gotta keep moving, even if sometimes that means guys. I totally did it with Karofsky once."

"Karofsky?" Mike asked, scrubbing up his face and sticking out his tongue a little.

"Yeah," Puck shrugged. "Don't let him know I told you, 'cause that dude would seriously try to kill both of us if he found out. He wasn't that good, anyway," Puck shrugged. "Tell me it wasn't him..."

"Nah," Mike shook his head. "Sam, Finn and I threatened to beat him up if he didn't bounce, because Kurt was there. Dude disappeared into the night."

"Good," Puck sighed, trying to keep his eyes on the road. He really didn't need that fat ass following him around and sending him creepy love notes anymore. Dude just didn't get that no meant no. Puck felt kind of really bad when Karofsky took the rejection harshly and started tormenting Kurt. But seriously, he thought Hummel could take it. Nothing ever got through that hard-ass shell of his until suddenly he transferred to Dalton. Lame. "Tell me it wasn't Kurt, either."

"I don't think so," Mike insisted. "Mercedes left really early with Tina and I'm almost positive Kurt was with them."

"Good," Puck replied, turning onto Mike's street. Kurt could be one clingy bastard, too. Puck had seen the evidence in the dude's massive crush on Finn and there was no way he'd proposition someone he knew to be clingy for a one-night sort of deal. Not after Karofsky and that incident Freshman year with Lana Wilkinson, the stalker from hell.

* * *

Kurt kept freaking out all of Sunday about how soon Puck was going to kill him and what sort of execution method the boy would use. Drowning during a swirlie? Dumpster-dive and then a pistol? Strangled with the climbing rope he stole from the gym? All the possibilities mixed around in Kurt's head until he got so frustrated and antsy that he agreed to watch some action movie with the rest of the family because any distraction at that point was a good one.

At least later Kurt's dad was going to drive him back to Dalton for the new school week and Kurt would be a good two hours and a security fence away from the boy who most likely wanted to murder him ruthlessly.

As the dolt was always saying, nobody questioned Puck's badassness, and Kurt was pretty sure being inside the guy's ass would be considered the emasculating act to end all emasculating acts and worthy of severe corporal punishment.

* * *

When Kurt ran into Puck at the Hummel-Hudson house the next weekend, he was sure again that he was going to die without much delay. Instead, he and Finn just said, "Hey, Kurt," and went back to their game.

Puck didn't look murderous. He looked positively indifferent. Did he-did he not remember? Kurt was pretty sure Puck had been blind drunk when the actual sex happened, but he didn't even remember a little bit?

Well that stung. Kurt had lost his virginity to the guy and he didn't even remember taking it? Of course he didn't. Puck had been with so many people, it's no wonder he wouldn't make a point of remembering.

Kurt had been remembering bits and pieces about that night ever since it happened: the miserable hour he spent puking his guts out and then rinsing with the mouthwash he found in Rachel's cabinet; Puck coming back drunk and talking to Kurt; kissing; sex. It had been kind of nice in a frantic, drunk sort of way. But why couldn't something like that happen with a guy he could have a relationship with? Because this whole one-night thing where Puck didn't even remember? Felt really shitty.

* * *

Puck decided not to worry too much about whoever he'd hooked up with, since it wasn't the first time he couldn't quite remember who he'd fucked. At least the not knowing made life a little interesting, right? And asking around school to see if anyone could remember what dude Puck might have slept with? Not gonna happen.

And everything else in his life was cool, too. Artie was helping him pass his classes. Santana was around regularly, and wasn't being too much of a bitch to him. Finn forgave him for making out with Rachel, "Just a little!" Under Coach Beiste, the basketball team was finally winning. And Regionals were coming up.

During one before-school practice session, Puck already wasn't feeling well when Finn walked in with half an Egg McMuffin stuffed in his mouth and the other half in his hand. The sight was nauseating enough on its own, but the smell hit Puck just hard enough in that way that made his mouth start watering in preparation for the up chuck. Puck barely made it to the trash can before losing what was left of last night's dinner and the half a bowl of cereal he'd managed to choke down before leaving for school. "Ughhh." Puking was definitely Puck's least favorite bodily activity.

"Dude, you okay?" Finn asked, running up to Puck and getting that damn cheesy monstrosity way too close.

Gagging, Puck pushed Finn away and cried, "Get that crap out of my face, Hudson!"

"Um," Mr. Schue spoke up, patting Puck's shoulder awkwardly, "why don't you go to the nurse, Puck? Lie down until you feel better? Artie could go with you?"

Seeing an opportunity to slack off, Puck nodded, "Yeah, okay. C'mon, Wheels."

* * *

When Puck was still puking his guts out three days later, his mom took him to see Dr. Brandenberg, the pediatrician he'd been seeing since he was five years old. "What seems to be the trouble, Noah?" the guy asked, sitting down on his short swiveling stool and looking up at Puck. Brandenberg was getting up there, but still middle aged, and he had a killer dinosaur stethoscope that Puck ways thought about snatching, before he realized how many kids, including his little sister, would miss the thing.

"I keep yacking all over the place," Puck replied, describing how and when he'd gotten sick.

"Have you eaten anything out of the ordinary?" Puck shook his head, unless you counted his mom's cooking as out of the ordinary, which somebody _should_. "Any lower back pain or trouble urinating?" Puck shook his head again. He had been peeing like a racehorse lately, but Puck just chalked it up to his awesome junk.

"And are you sexually active?"

Glad he'd convinced his mom to stay out in the waiting room, Puck said, "Yeah, sure. I'm a dude. I have needs."

"Multiple partners?" Puck nodded. Just his luck. He'd gone and caught an STD or something and now he was gonna die! "Female or Male?"

Stunned by the question, because everyone knew what a stud Puck was and gave him the benefit of the doubt, he actually ended up telling the truth, "Both. But mostly girls."

"I see," the doctor nodded, completely non-judgmental. Puck knew he liked this guy for a reason. "And have you recently been on the receiving end of intercourse with a male?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Puck asked, flashing back to that morning he'd woke up stiff and sore in Rachel's bed. "Do I have AIDS or something?"

"I doubt it," the doctor said, "but we'll test for everything just to be sure. I'm more concerned with another condition which I think you might have. At this point, all we can do is a blood test, but given your symptoms, your sexual history, and your Jewish heritage, there's a distinct possibility you're pregnant."

"...the fuck?" Puck breathed, staring at the doctor like he'd grown another head or something. "I'm a dude! I have dude parts!"

"I know that, Noah," the doctor insisted, shaking his head when Puck went to unzip his pants to make sure Brandenberg was convinced of his manliness. "But in very rare cases, especially among those with Jewish ancestry, there's a tendency to retain some vestigial female reproductive organs."

"But I don't..." Puck insisted, mostly confused over what the hell this dude meant by "vestigial." "I'm pretty sure I got fucked in the _ass_, doc. This is crap. If you're not gonna tell me what's wrong, I'm gonna go home."

"Wait, Noah!" the doctor said, stopping him with a light hand on his shoulder. "Let me do the blood tests, okay? Whether or not I'm wrong, this could be very serious. A pregnancy could be fatal if we don't make sure things go well every step of the way."

Puck thought about the doctor's words and while he was almost a hundred percent sure the guy was blowing smoke up Puck's ass, it couldn't hurt to do the test and prove him wrong, right? "Just don't tell my mom what the blood tests are for. I mean, you're looking for infections and stuff, too, right?"

"Yes," the doctor insisted. "Now, sit back down on the table and I'll have the nurse come draw blood, while I tell your mother what you want her to know."

Sighing in relief, Puck sat back down and nodded until the doctor left. "Fuck my life," he sighed as he waited for the nurse. This had to be some sort of cosmic retribution for getting Quinn knocked up, didn't it?

Or maybe, if it was true and he was going to have a baby, this was his second chance at being someone's dad. For keeps.

* * *

_Review, please!_


	2. Options

**Chapter 2 – Options**

Again, Kurt was home with his family for the weekend, making the three hour bus ride just in time for Friday dinner. He kind of hated how his dad was really bonding with Carole and Finn during the week, but Burt made sure that they had special father/son time every Sunday morning and during the drive back to Dalton on Sunday afternoon. But right now it was Saturday night and Kurt was sulking.

Mercedes and Tina had gone to Chicago without him, because Tina's parents were driving them up on Friday morning and Kurt couldn't miss his History exam. Blaine was still in Westerville with Owen, the guy who had asked Blaine out before Kurt gathered enough courage to do it himself. And Finn was up in his room playing video games after having broken up with Rachel, again.

Well, there had to be some brotherly activity they could do, like rent a movie or something while Burt and Carole were out on their dinner and dancing date. Right?

Kurt trudged up the stairs to the second floor of their new house, leaving his ground-level bedroom behind. It wasn't as awesome as his basement bedroom in their old house, but at least it had an attached three-quarters bath. Of course, Finn's bedroom upstairs was bigger, but he didn't even have a walk-in closet, so Kurt decided it was fairly even.

Kurt expected Finn to be alone, after all, he hadn't heard anyone at the door, but there were definitely voices coming from the room. Curious how someone had gotten past him, Kurt stepped up and put his ear to Finn's door.

"...spit it out, dude," Finn said in sort of a frustrated tone. "You climb in my window like in some movie and-"

"I gotta quit basketball," the window-climber replied and Kurt was pretty sure it was Puck.

"What?" Finn asked, sounding surprised and upset. "But we had a winning combo going, man! You know Sam and all the other guys suck compared to you!"

"Thanks, bro," Puck laughed, obviously pleased with himself.

"Is it about grades?" Finn pushed, "Because I totally bet we could get some of the nerds to tutor you."

"No, dude," Puck sighed and Kurt heard the bouncing springs of someone collapsing down onto that contraption Finn called a bed. "My grades are fine. It's actually this ... medical ... thing. No sports until next year."

"Dude, that sucks!" Finn replied. "Are you gonna die? What is it?"

"Yeah. It does suck. Probably not gonna die," Puck replied. "And you have to promise not to tell anyone, 'cause this could seriously fuck up my rep."

"I won't tell," Finn promised and his vehemence made Kurt feel kind of squicky for continuing to listen, but he couldn't help it. Something was seriously wrong with one of his ... close _acquaintances_, and Kurt had to know what it was.

"Seriously, dude," Puck almost growled.

"I won't!"

"Okay," Puck sighed. "Here goes. You know, my mom doesn't even know this yet, so keep that in mind, Hudson." He paused, for a deep breath Kurt imagined, before saying, "I'm knocked up."

"Huh?" Finn asked in confusion and Kurt couldn't say he was doing much better. Puck was knocked up?

"_Pregnant_, dude," Puck explained. "I don't know. I'm some sort of Jewish freak and I had sex with a guy and now I've got a person growing inside me!"

"You had sex with a guy?" Finn cried, seemingly more upset about that than about Puck trying to convince him that he was pregnant. Kurt still didn't quite believe it and wouldn't until he had proof. For all he knew, this was some sort of elaborate months-long April fool's joke.

"I'm a sex-shark, dude," Puck explained. "It happened. Only a few times, you know. Different guys. Mostly I stick to chicks, because, you know, _boobs_."

"Yeah," Finn agreed in that way that straight guys always had when they were taking about boobs. Kurt didn't quite see the appeal. "So, your ... _whatever_ has another dad? Who is it?"

Puck groaned and sighed, "I don't know! It happened at that party at Rachel's house, like two months ago. The one where everyone got completely shit-faced? He was gone when I woke up."

Kurt gasped. He couldn't help it. No! There was no freaking way he had impregnated Noah Puckerman! This prank was the long-feared payback for sleeping with Puck, wasn't it? Some elaborate scheme to make Kurt think he was going to be a teenage father, even though he was as gay as they came?

"How are you going to find him?" Finn asked. After a short silence, Finn argued, "You have to let him know! When Quinn got pregnant, you wanted to know, right? This guy might be the same."

"But ..." Puck argued, his voice strained like he knew Finn had a point. "What if he's a complete douche? I'll be stuck with his kid for life, man."

"Not necessarily," Finn insisted, his words followed by a smacking thud. "Ow, dude! I didn't mean it like that! I meant you could give this one away too or maybe because you're a dude the whole pregnancy thing won't work, you know? All the way to the end?"

Voice gruff and angry, Puck asked, "What am I gonna do? Put out a Craigslist ad? Lost and Found? 'Hey, you left some of your spunk at this party. Congratulations, it's a boy!'?"

"It's a boyyy?" Finn asked and Kurt could imagine the dopey look on his stepbrother's face.

Shit! This was getting way too intense and Kurt just kept having to tell himself, "It's not real! It's not real! It's a prank!"

"How the fuck should I know?" Puck snapped at his friend. "They can't even see that shit for a few more months."

"Oh. Oh, yeah."

"I am fucked," Puck groaned. "So royally boned! I have to figure out how to tell my mother..."

Unable to eavesdrop any longer, Kurt backed away and ran down the stairs to lock himself in his room. "It's not real. It's not real!"

But what if it _was_ real? Opening up his laptop, Kurt began searching the Internet for answers. There wasn't a lot, but what was there fit disturbingly closely with what Puck had said. Of course, he could have done the same search to write that little speech he'd given Finn.

This was exactly what Puck wanted, right? Kurt panicking about this fake pregnancy to get back at him for daring to capitulate to the guy's drunken demands for sex. But what if it wasn't an act? What if Kurt was going to be a father? He could never just forget about a kid, even if he never expected to have one of his own.

Option, the first: don't tell anyone about sleeping with Puck, especially not Puck. For safety's sake, Kurt liked this option a lot. If no one knew he was the baby-daddy, no one could kill or otherwise punish him for it. But it meant an innocent little baby went without both its parents, and Kurt couldn't do that to another human being.

But what would happen if he did tell? A) Puck would kill him. Or, B) nobody would believe him. Even while he was fucking Puck, Kurt could hardly believe it himself. Popular guys did not slum it with the rest of the student body. Or, not usually. Finn and Rachel were an exception, but look how well they were turning out, fighting all the time, on and off again and again. Besides, Puck was really, _really_ straight, and it sounded like he was going to hide the pregnancy as long as possible.

But what if? What if Puck would C) actually let him be there and involved with the baby? What if Puck let them be a real family?

What if Kurt's mom was watching over him? She would be so disappointed if he just let Puck and his current problem slip on by, Kurt just knew it. He had to do _something_.

* * *

Puck slept over at Finn's house and woke up too early because he had to puke his guts out again. God, how did anyone ever live through morning sickness? At this point, he wouldn't even be surprised to see his shoes come out of his mouth, he was heaving that hard. "Fuuuck..."

Then, someone knocked softly on the bathroom door and a high voice asked, "Puck?" At first, Puck thought it was probably Carole, who had always been sort of like another mom to him, since he and Finn had spent so much time at each other's houses. "C'mon, I brought something that might help." It was Kurt! Why would that dude care that Puck was so miserable he figured death would be a million times better than this? It wasn't like they were actually friends or anything.

Still, Puck was curious and desperate for something that could possibly help, so he shuffled over on his knees to the door and unlocked it before collapsing down next to the toilet again. After a few hesitant seconds, the door opened and Kurt's face peaked around it. He was just as put together as usual, which Puck thought was hella lame for a Sunday morning, and he had a mug in his hand.

"Here," he said, handing the mug down to Puck. "It's ginger tea. It should make your stomach feel better if you sip it slowly."

Ready to try anything, Puck shrugged and accepted the offering, deciding the tea smelled weird, but it tasted okay and it didn't make him want to yack again. "Thanks," Puck nodded, licking his lips and letting his head fall back against the bathroom wall. Watching Kurt for a moment, Puck's curiosity overwhelmed him and he asked, "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Don't kill me," Kurt insisted, closing the bathroom door behind him and sitting down on the floor facing Puck, his blue eyes wide and afraid, "but I accidentally heard what you told Finn last night."

Too tired to put much force behind it, Puck grabbed the front of Kurt's shirt threateningly and growled, "You didn't hear anything, got it?" It was just his luck that someone would overhear Puck spilling his darkest secrets, wasn't it?

Eyes wider and more afraid, Kurt nodded quickly, "Yeah. Got it. I heard nothing." Puck let the dude go, a moment or two of awkward silence passed by, and Puck took a few more sips of the tea, amazed at how quickly it was settling his stomach. Closing his eyes, Puck tried to remember what it was like before he got knocked up, when he could eat cheeseburgers and pizza and Chinese food and not have to worry about what they might taste like in reverse. Puck was just fantasizing what the best meal ever might be (his Nana's brisket or a double bacon cheeseburger) when Kurt's voice shattered the silence with a careful, "Except..."

"No," Puck snapped. "Not your problem, so just forget about it, Hummel."

"You don't remember who you slept with?"

Fighting the urge to bash the kid's face in with the mug in his hands, Puck clenched his teeth and said, "And I'm sure you remember everyone that - oh, wait! You're a still a virgin, aren't you?" Puck sneered at the other guy, wishing he had enough strength to get up and brush past Kurt like it was effortless.

"I'm not," Kurt insisted angrily, like Puck should have known differently. What the hell? It's not like they were friends or anything. They got along for the sake of glee club and Finn, and since Kurt switched sides, the only reason left was Finn.

Still feeling cranky and mean, Puck said, "Forgot you were at an all-dudes boarding school, pretty boy. They probably pass you around like a fat joint at that place, right? Was it everything you hoped for?"

Looking angry, disgusted, and distraught, Kurt grabbed the mug out of Puck's hands and stood up, hauling open the bathroom door. "For your information," Kurt hissed, "I've only had sex _once _and the jackass doesn't even remember it happening!" With that, Kurt slammed the door and left Puck alone on the bathroom floor, in a place that wasn't even his own house, with the feeling that he'd done something unforgivable.

That's alright. Puck didn't need the homo's forgiveness or his approval. What he did need was for Kurt to keep his mouth shut about the whole pregnancy thing. No one could know what a freak Puck was. No, he could hide whatever this was behind loose clothing and disappear over the summer. The kid was due in July, so there was plenty of time to recover and put some lie in place about the kid's mother abandoning it with Puck, so he could be a dad for real this time.

But first, because he knew there was no way he could hide it for much longer, Puck had to tell his mom. And second, he needed to find a freaking job.

* * *

_Please don't forget to review!_


	3. Parents

**Chapter 3 – Parents**

Kurt couldn't believe he'd actually considered telling Puck about the night of Rachel's party. He was such an asshole. Suggesting Kurt let himself be "passed around" like he was just a soulless piece of ass? God! And that self-hating jerk wad was carrying his kid? There was no way Puck was so into a prank that he would make himself puke non-stop for an hour. But, that only left the possibility that this was real. Puck's baby was real. What was Kurt going to do?

He needed to talk to someone. He wanted to talk to his mom, but Kurt knew from experience that even if he did try talking to her, he'd get no response. Just silence. Maybe he just needed to cool off and think about this for a few days before doing anything rash, like telling someone else, even his dad, Puck's situation.

Kurt had to get out of this house, though, especially if Puck was going to stick around for more than the next ten minutes. Hurriedly, Kurt packed up his things and set his bags by the front door.

"Dad?" he called, knocking on the door to the master bedroom and praying that Puck would stay in the bathroom if he knew what was good for him.

"What is it, son?" Burt asked, answering the door in his Ohio Buckeyes pajamas, which had to be an offense against someone's god, they were so hideous. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot about a project I have to do," Kurt lied. "It's due tomorrow and all my supplies are back at the dorm and I'm freaking out about it!"

"Okay, okay!" Burt nodded with an indulgent smile, patting Kurt's shoulder. "I'll put on some street clothes and get you back to school in a jiffy. Ready to go?"

Kurt nodded and left, gathering his things and putting them in the back seat of his dad's pick-up, waiting impatiently buckled into the passenger's seat. After what felt like forever, Burt finally came out of the house with his car keys in one hand and a travel mug of what was probably instant coffee in the other.

About ten minutes out of town, Burt asked, "Are you sure it's just the project freaking you out, Kurt? 'Cause you kinda look like you haven't slept..."

Cursing the way his dad could see through him the way no one else could, Kurt asked, "Can we pull over before we talk? Maybe stop for breakfast?"

Kurt's dad gave him a look, but the nodded and pulled off the interstate toward a diner. Oh, this was not going to be a fun conversation.

* * *

"Hey, Ma?" Puck called when he got home. He'd left just after Kurt and his dad did, still confused about the gay kid's tantrum. Who knew, maybe Kurt was planning on telling people, and Puck's mom would kick his ass if she heard about this before Puck worked up the courage to tell her first. Going upstairs, he called, "Ma, you around?"

"In the tub!" she called, and Puck figured this was the perfect time to tell her, since there was no way she could strangle him if she had to carefully get out of the tub and get dressed first.

"Hey," Puck said as he opened the door to the upstairs bathroom. It was laid out so that you couldn't see into the tub as long as you stayed close to the door and sat on the toilet. He didn't know how many times he'd sat here waiting for his sister to bathe without drowning or letting his mom talk on and on about what he could be doing with his life. Well, not so much anymore.

"How was your sleepover at Finn's?" she asked excitedly. He guessed ever hour he spent with that goody two-shoes was an hour Puck wasn't working his way back into Juvie.

"Fine," he replied, "but I got some shit to tell you, Ma. And you're not gonna like it."

"Oh, lord! You haven't killed anyone, have you?" she sounded about on the verge of panic. "I can't afford the kind of lawyer you would need to get out of a murder rap, Noah!"

"No, I did not _kill_ anyone!" he insisted, letting his head fall into his hands. "I just, I know why I've been so sick. Brandenberg called me with the results."

"Is it cancer?" she guessed, turning to look at him around the wall between them. "I told you smoking would kill you. Even clove cigarettes, Noah!"

"It's not cancer!" he cried in frustration. "Would you let me freaking finish?"

"I'm sorry," she said with a pout, turning away from him again. "Continue."

"The doc says I'm pregnant. Something about vegetative organs and being Jewish. Like actual, honest-to-god, a baby is going to happen, pregnant."

"_You_," she stressed. "As in your actual, _physical_ body and not a girl this time; _you're_ pregnant?"

"That's what the doc said. We can call him tomorrow if you want to hear it straight from him," Puck sighed, happy his mom had yet to jump out of the bathtub and simultaneously traumatize and attempt to murder him.

"But...how? Unless..."

"I had sex with a guy, mom," Puck sighed. "And it wasn't the first time, or the first guy, though I'm still into girls, like, _big time_."

"What guy?" she demanded. "You're not sleeping with Finn are you? I knew he was too quick to forgive you after everything you've done to him and-"

"Shut up, Ma!" Puck groaned. "It wasn't Finn. Besides, he's like my brother. Gross!"

"Then who was it?" she asked, sloshing around in the tub, with that growl in her voice. "Who's ass do I have to beat for getting you this way?"

"Well, see..."

"No-ahhh?"

"I don't exactly remember, okay? It was a party, I got drunk and I woke up without pants. I didn't think _I'd _be the one getting pregnant!"

"You realize you're grounded forever, right?" she insisted and Puck heard a clunk and then the sucking noise of the bathtub being drained. "After Quinn and the stunt that put you in Juvie and now this? _Forever_, Noah!"

"That's kinda what having a kid means, isn't it?" he sighed, leaving the room so she could get dressed and continue to yell at him for the rest of the day. But hey, at least he had an excuse now to throw up after choking down her cooking.

* * *

After they had ordered and received their coffee, his father looked Kurt straight in the eye and ordered, "Spill, kiddo."

"I ..." Kurt replied, wondering how exactly he should word this and what he should say. "I, uh, I wanted to say that ... I wanted to tell you..."

"Just spit it out, son."

"I had sex," Kurt spluttered, ducking his head as he felt himself blush fiercely. "I thought you should know."

"Really?" Burt asked. "I don't ... God, I wish your mother were here," Burt laughed. "I mean, _boys_. Wow. Okay. Hey, bud? Look at me." Kurt sighed and looked up at his dad, catching the almost proud look in his eyes. Shit. "Thanks for telling me, kiddo. Who's, um, the lucky fellow?"

Groaning, Kurt let his head fall down onto his crossed arms. "You don't want to know, Dad."

"Was it an adult? At that school of yours? I'll kill-"

"Settle down, Dad," Kurt insisted, lifting his head and reaching out to grasp the man's wrist. "It didn't happen at school. It happened here in Lima."

"When?"

"A few months ago," Kurt confessed, stopping himself from picking at his nails in the moment of stress. "You and Carole were out and there was this party at Rachel's and..."

"Was it a _girl_?"

"Oh, ew! No!" Kurt replied, put off his coffee for the moment. "The thing..." he sighed. "The thing is, the boy doesn't remember it was me he was with and I feel so stupid about the whole night."

"He doesn't remember?" Burt asked with that hard edge that meant Kurt better tell the truth, or else.

"He was drinking," Kurt admitted, trying to make himself as small as possible in the booth.

"What about you?" Burt demanded.

"I'd been drinking, too," Kurt confessed, squeezing his eyes shut for the punishment that was sure to come of it.

"He took advantage of you?" Burt cried, standing up like he was raring to go start a fight with Puck, even if he didn't know yet that the jock was his target.

"Dad!" Kurt hissed, stealing a glance at all the people who were looking at them. "Dad, sit down! If anything," Kurt lowered his voice so the rest of the diner didn't have to hear this. "If anything, I took advantage of _him_, Dad. He was way more drunk than I was and-" Okay, he wasn't going to say who had done what to whom because telling his dad he'd topped another guy was so _not_ on Kurt's list of discussions that would ever, ever happen.

"And, what?"

"It's TMI, dad," Kurt groaned, letting his head fall back down into his hands. When he heard Burt's mouth open as if to ask another question, Kurt supplied, "Too much information. Just rest assured, I was a willing participant."

"Oh," Burt nodded, and Kurt hazarded looking up at his dad briefly. He had that look he got sometimes when he realized that, oh yeah, his son was actually a boy. "Were you safe?"

Kurt sighed again, and he had to look out the window as he answered, "I don't think so."

"Kurt!"

"I know!"

Frowning in that way only a dad could, Burt asked, "How about the guy? Is he, I don't know, trustworthy?"

"Not really," Kurt ducked his head again. "But before you write me off as a complete idiot, you should know that I got tested at the clinic in Westerville and I'm fine. They'll draw blood again in a month just to be sure, but believe me, I have learned my lesson."

Burt gave Kurt a long look, which was extended when their food came and he started digging into his breakfast ("Egg _white _omelette, Dad! Do you _want_ another arrhythmia?"). Finally Burt nodded and said, "Well, you're smarter than me, kid. It took a case of the clap and two pregnancy scares before I learned my lesson!"

Despite the way his dad was smiling and eating happily, Kurt almost dropped his fork when the guy mentioned pregnancy. But, one thing at a time, right? Kurt would make absolutely sure that the situation with Puck was real before he involved his dad in the whole mess. And really, why make upsetting, possibly life-altering decisions based on a few conversations with absolutely no proof?

* * *

In the end, Puck's mom made him go see Dr. Wu, the lady doctor. Embarrassed beyond belief, Puck wore a hat, his hairography wig, a jacket with a high collar, and a pair of dark sunglasses when he went. Of course his mom sitting next to him the whole time didn't really help matters, but what was he going to do? The woman took away his X-box and wouldn't give it back unless he did this!

"No-" the nurse called into the waiting room, "No-Norah?"

Great, as if he didn't already feel like enough of a chick with a baby growing inside him. Sighing, Puck got up and followed the nurse back, hating the way his mom pushed him along, like he would all of a sudden bolt. He may not want to be at the fucking lady-doctor, but Puck sure as shit wanted to know what was going on in his belly and when he would get to start eating cool stuff, like pickles and ... pickles. Anything else with the pickles was sounding really gross.

The nurse took his temperature and his blood pressure while Puck's mom looked on with that disapproving Jewish glare she'd perfected by the time Puck was three. Yup, that was him. A big old disappointment. Nothing new there.

When the doctor came in, he stopped short at the sight of Puck without his wig and glasses. "Is this a joke?" Wu asked, frowning and closing the door before sitting down.

"I assure you, doctor, it's not," Puck's mom spoke up. "Noah's physician, Dr. Brandenberg referred us to you."

"But No-Noah's _male_."

Puck hated the way they spoke about him like he wasn't there, though he should be used to it from his mother. Coldly she said, "The results of two blood tests are in that file you're holding, Dr. Wu. How about you do as we ask and get on with the ultrasound?"

"Okaaayyy," the doctor replied, putting down the file and snapping on a pair of gloves. "Lie down and pull your shirt up, Noah." Puck did as he was asked and jumped when the doctor squirted him with cold gel.

"Watch it there, doc," he threatened, only to be stared down by the guy's withering glare. Man, lady-doctors were nuts! And here he thought Quinn had been _exaggerating_!

"Shush," Wu replied, "we're looking for a fetal heartbeat. Without one of those, I'm afraid those blood tests just indicate a severe hormonal imbalance, possibly caused by a tumor. Have you taken any steroids, Mr. Puckerman?"

For once, Puck actually regretted lying to enhance his rep. He'd told Rachel he'd taken steroids and that's why his arms were bigger, when in fact they were bigger because all he did in prison was lift weights all day. And then, when he got back and no one wanted to be seen with the kid who went to Juvie, he spent all his free time in the weight room, lifting. "No," he admitted. "Besides, those things make your junk fall off."

"Good," the doctor nodded, putting the wand on Puck's flat stomach and pushing it around until he found something. "What the…?" Wu muttered, flipping a switch so that a quick _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh _sound erupted from the machine. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but we have a fetal heartbeat here in the abdominal cavity."

Puck resisted the very real urge to say, "I told you so, doc," mostly because he was fascinated by the quick fluttering Wu pointed to on the ultrasound screen. That was it, his kid and no one else's. _His_.

Shut up, he was not going to cry, damn it! He wasn't!

* * *

_So this is the last chapter I have written. Chapter 4 will hopefully be coming soon, but if you have any suggestions about what you would like to see, speak now or forever hold your peace (piece?)._


	4. Cash Flow

**Chapter 4 – Cash Flow  
**

School was alright now that he was preggers, Puck supposed, as long as the teachers left him and his ginger tea thermos in peace. Glee club took up his elective hour, and it was sorta the best part of his day, now that he couldn't play sports anymore. And Finn was actually being nice to him for once.

"How ya feeling, dude?" Frankenteen asked softly in Puck's ear before Schue arrived.

"Alright," Puck shrugged. "I told my mom the other day."

Scrunching up his face, Finn asked, "How'd she take it?"

"Grounded forever," Puck replied, "but otherwise okay."

"Shit, that sucks," Finn sighed, clapping Puck on the shoulder a few times before leaning back in his seat.

What really sucked was how difficult it was to get an after school job. His record may have been sealed or whatever when he finished his community service, but everyone in town seemed to recognize Puck as the kid that stole that ATM. What was he supposed to do for cash? Mooch off his mom? Weak.

One day after school, Puck's mom sat at the kitchen table, yelling into the phone, "I don't care what you think, Missy! It's a legitimate claim! Yes! My son, Noah, is pregnant. No, don't you dare put me on h-" She shook her head in frustration and sighed, covering her eyes with one hand.

"Everything good?" Puck asked on his way to raiding the fridge. Man, he was starting to get really hungry, when he wasn't puking his guts out.

"No," his mother replied, still covering her eyes. "I don't think our insurance company is going to pay for Dr. Wu."

"But he said," Puck remembered, "that I have to come see him every month, to make sure I'm not ... what was it again? Oh, yeah! Bleeding to _death_ internally!"

"I know!" Puck's mom sighed again. "We might have to end up paying him out of pocket. This 'miracle' of yours is gonna cost me a fortune."

"I'm trying to get a job, Ma," Puck replied, completing the build on his triple-decker sandwich. "But Sheets and Things won't even hire me."

The woman disconnected her call and stood up then, going to stand next to Puck and putting her arm around his shoulders. "Noah, baby," she said, "I know you're trying. We'll get through this somehow. Have you thought about finding the ... well, the other boy? Maybe he could help..."

"I told you," he sighed, taking a bite of his sandwich and leaning his head down against his mom's shoulder as he chewed it, "I don't know who he is."

Using her best passive-aggressive tone, she said, "You haven't exactly gone looking for him..."

"Ma," Puck explained, turning free of her arm and taking his sandwich with him toward the stairs, "if I go looking, you know people are gonna find out. I don't want to end up on the eleven o'clock news! It's bad enough that I had to quit the basketball team! Do you know how much shit I would get over this?"

"Ten applications a week," she insisted as he climbed the stairs. "Ten job applications a week or I go looking for him!"

"Sure, Ma!" Puck shouted back as he got to his room, knowing she would follow through with the threat.

* * *

Midterms were fast approaching and Kurt couldn't concentrate. He had to know whether or not Puck was actually carrying his kid. But how? Talking to Puck directly was out of the question, since he was such a jerk. Maybe Kurt should talk to Finn about it? Puck had told Kurt's stepbrother even before telling his mother. Finn had to know what was going on, right?

For not the first time, Kurt appreciated having his own dorm room. It was ridiculously small, with hardly enough room for his school things, much less the copious number of products he used on a daily basis, but it was private. He waited until after dinner before calling Finn as he sat nervously at his stiff desk chair, trying not to fiddle too much with the pens on his desk.

After a few rings, the line connected and Finn answered, "Hey, stepbrother! What's up? You don't usually call me. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt insisted. "I just wanted to talk to you about something... Are you alone?"

"Why?" Finn asked. "You aren't gonna tell me you're a super secret undercover spy, are you?"

Shaking his head and wondering how Finn came up with these ideas, Kurt replied, "No, Finn. I want to talk to you about Puck and his ... situation."

The other boy didn't respond right away and when he did, he was obviously lying. "What situation? What are you talking a-"

"Puck's pregnancy," Kurt insisted. "I have to tell you something, but you can't repeat it to him. Please?"

"He's not pregnant, Kurt! Guys don't get pregnant. Geez, and you were the one who got a better grade in biology than I did!"

"I heard him tell you, Finn," Kurt replied, doing his best to keep his voice level. "I talked to him the next morning when he was vomiting profusely. I know."

"Oh," Finn said simply.

"Yeah."

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"I just-" Kurt sighed, not believing he felt so bad about the jock. "I just wanted to know how he's doing. I'm worried."

Finn replied much happier this time, "Oh! He's doing good. Had an ultrasound and everything! He's looking for a job, you know to pay for stuff. Can you believe he doesn't remember who he did it with?"

"No," Kurt sighed, kicking himself for not realizing earlier how much financial strain his mistake was putting on Puck. Kurt had to do something. He might not like the 'mother' but there was no way he could just leave Puck alone in paying for _their _kid. "I can't believe it. Hey, Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll watch out for Puck? At school? If anyone finds out..."

Sadly Finn said, "Yeah. I know. I got him covered, Kurt."

"Oh, and don't tell Puck I asked after him," Kurt insisted. "He's not very happy I know and I don't want to be on the bad end of a mood-swing and get my ass kicked."

"Alright," Finn laughed happily before changing the subject. "How's school?"

"Fine," Kurt replied, wondering how he could make some extra money between school and the Warblers and going home to Lima on the weekends. "I've got this test tomorrow…"

* * *

"Are you sure you can keep working like this, Kurt?" Burt asked, watching the boy slide out from under his tenth car of the day. "Don't they give you a lot of homework at that school of yours?"

"Don't worry, Dad," Kurt sighed as he crossed the garage for a new gallon of oil. "I get all my homework done during the week. Going to a fancy school has made me really excited about college. I figure it wouldn't hurt to start saving up in earnest."

Kurt hated lying to his dad, but he knew as difficult as the not-a-virgin-anymore talk had been, the I-got-someone-pregnant talk would be a million times worse, and his dad just wasn't ready to handle that yet. Not until Kurt figured out how to help pay Puck's medical bills. Plus, if he stayed busy at the garage all weekend, Kurt wouldn't have to run into Puck visiting Finn at the house. Come to think of it, he wouldn't have to run into Rachel either, which was a bonus. Kurt liked her just fine, but only in small doses, and spending all afternoon with her and Finn at the mall was not a small dose. Especially not when Kurt couldn't even buy anything to make himself feel better about the way she self-aggrandized incessantly.

"Alright, kid," Burt nodded, going back to his paperwork. "Just let me know if you need to back off on hours to study for midterms or something. I spent enough money on that school, I can't have you failing out."

"Got it," Kurt nodded, waiting for the last of the oil to drain into the pan before he could replace it with the new stuff. God, it was going to take him all week just to get all this grease and grit out from under his nails.

* * *

"No, Sarah!" Puck's mom called as the girl ran down the grocery store aisle and out of sight. Turning to Puck, she said, "This is what you have to look forward to, Noah. Only it's ten times worse when they're too small to understand rules and common courtesy. Or when they're too old to care anymore. Get your hands out of your mouth, Noah! We're in public!"

"I can't help it," he insisted, complying with her request anyway and pushing the cart down the aisle after his mom. "Ever since I started working at the theater, I've had popcorn stuck in my teeth."

"You could just _not _eat the popcorn," his mom suggested, taking two boxes down from the shelf to compare them. "I swear, you're putting on more weight than you need to."

Rolling his eyes and thinking she really shouldn't be ragging on him for eating free food at this point, Puck sighed, "I'm gonna go find the little twerp."

"Get some milk while you're over there," the woman insisted, choosing one of the boxes and putting the other away. "And for God's sake, go get some floss if it's bothering you so much!"

Puck removed his hand from his mouth again and searched the aisles for his sister, finding her not in the candy aisle, like he expected, but in the organic aisle, talking to someone. Someone who looked like a lot like Kurt from behind.

"...and this one," the boy was saying, handing Sarah a small jar, "makes your skin really smooth. Like a baby."

"Duck fat?" Sarah read from the label. "Gross!"

Kurt laughed and took the jar away, putting it back on the shelf as he said, "Yeah, you're probably right. How about the almond butter one? It's about ten times cheaper."

"Is that the one you're getting?" she asked.

Kurt nodded and grabbed another jar off the shelf. "That's definitely the one that fits my budget, too."

"Hey," Puck said as he approached the pair, rounding Kurt to put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "What's up, punks?" Snatching the jar out of his sister's hand, he read the label, "Almond Body Butter. That sounds kinda advanced for you, mouth-breather. Like you shouldn't need this until you turn thirty and start dating!" Puck caught Kurt's eye for the joke, but the boy didn't seem to get it. What a shame. His best dirty joke of the day, and it had been wasted on two innocents.

"Noah!" Sarah cried, jumping up at him and trying to reach the jar. "Give it back, or I'll tell mom!"

After keeping it away from her for a few seconds, Puck crouched down and pressed the jar into Sarah's hands, saying, "Mom's in the cereal aisle, Boo. You gotta ask her about this first."

"Fine!" she cried in exasperation, taking the jar and sticking her tongue out with a little smile at the edges of her lips before she ran off again.

When he stood up again, Kurt was staring, and not in the way that made Puck feel like he was way to hot to touch. No, this was an open-mouthed, surprised, almost impressed sort of staring.

"What?"

Kurt turned to watch Sarah clear the end of the aisle before looking back to Puck and asking, "That's your sister?"

Geez. Kurt didn't have to sound so astounded. "So?"

"You're actually kind of … nice to her."

Puck shrugged. "She's family, you know? See you around, Kurt." Leaving the fairy to his body butters and other organic shit, Puck headed for the dairy aisle, wondering if his mom would notice him sneaking in whole milk in place of that skim crap she normally bought. He needed all the nutrients he could get, right? Absently, Puck patted his stomach where Wu had found the heartbeat. Puck couldn't feel anything there yet, but his belly was starting to bulge a little bit, just under the waistline and off to the left side a few inches. Hopefully the little guy (or girl) was going to be okay for the long haul.

* * *

One Monday morning, about ten weeks into his pregnancy, according to Dr. Wu, Puck opened his locker and noticed a fat envelope that hadn't been there before. Inside was a stack of seven hundred-dollar bills and just as Puck was starting to suspect he was being set up to take the rap for something he didn't do, he saw the note at the back. It was written on a plain piece of notebook paper with green ink, and it said, "For our baby." And that was it. No name, no phone number, no email address. Just, "For our baby."

Hiding the cash in the back of his locker, Puck took the note, slammed his locker shut and went across the hall to where Finn and Rachel were kissing. "Beat it, Barbara," Puck growled, prying the two lovebirds apart. "I gotta talk to Finn for a minute."

Rachel opened her mouth to give him what looked like a whopping piece of her mind, but closed it again when Finn gave her a look. Sending a significant glance Puck's way, Rachel nodded and bowed out. Pissed off, Puck punched Finn on the arm and demanded, "You fucking told her?"

"I didn't mean to!" Finn cried, putting his hands up defensively when Puck hit him again for good measure. "You know she has that psychic thing going on! She guessed!"

Pissed off, Puck pushed the note into Finn's face, saying, "Someone else knows, dude! This baby thing got back to the guy I slept with!"

"'For our baby'," Finn read, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What? A piece of paper?" The dumbass turned it over like he was looking for a fucking treasure map, or something.

"No!" Puck poked at the note. "It was with an envelope full of cash. In my locker! How the hell did it get in there, anyway? Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Finn studied the note for a moment, his eyes eventually widening in surprise before he schooled his expression and shook his head. "Nope, no. Don't recognize it at all. Maybe it was one of the guy's from Lima West? We hosted them for the game Friday night. Maybe he did it then?"

Puck was about to call bullshit when someone pushed him from behind and into Finn, slamming them both into the lockers. It didn't hurt, but Puck was hella pissed and pushed himself away from Finn, trying to run after what turned out to be Karofsky and one of his goons. However, he got about two feet before Finn hauled back on his arm, practically pulling it out of the socket, and said, "You can't, Puck! Think! If you take just one wrong punch to the stomach?"

"Yeah," Puck snarled, punching the bank of lockers instead. "You're right, bro. Thanks."

"I got your back," Finn insisted, grabbing Sam by the back of the shirt and leading him after the two jocks. Infuriated that he couldn't even fight his own battles any more, Puck stalked the other way, toward the choir room, where he could sit and think (and probably puke once or twice) in quiet.

Whoever Puck had been with remembered the night of Rachel's party better than he did, and somehow he knew about the baby. But he didn't want Puck to know who he was. That sucked! Who the hell was it? This kid under the bump in Puck's belly deserved two parents, didn't it? Not just a stack of cash whenever the dude felt like slipping it into Puck's locker.

Finn seemed to recognize the handwriting, so Puck vowed to stick to his friend's side until Finn gave up the mystery fucker. There was just too much at stake not to know.

* * *

After the shop closed on Saturday night, Kurt showered and changed before reclaiming the keys for his Navigator from Finn and driving to the mall. The blessed, blessed, oh-god-I-missed-you mall. Just inside the food court, Kurt met Tina, Mercedes, and Quinn. "Hey, girls. I have no money to spend, but I can't wait to help you burn through yours."

"Sounds great, baby boy," Mercedes replied, taking his arm gleefully. "Which way should we turn first?"

"I need to visit the make-up counters in Macy's," Quinn spoke up, walking behind Kurt and Mercedes with Tina. "But otherwise I'm open to suggestion."

"Towards Macy's it is!" Kurt cried, glad to have a chance to just shop and relax with his girls. "I feel like I haven't seen you ladies in forever!"

"I know!" Tina cried. "You've been working like a mad man. Aren't you worried about your cuticles?"

Kurt shrugged and looked down at his poor, neglected hands, which had only Almond Butter to keep them soft and supple. "To tell the truth, I've about given up. No one at school even appreciates how lovely my hands used to be."

"That's 'cause they're boys, sweetie," Quinn replied with a chuckle.

Kurt was about to pull them into a store just up ahead, because that scarf in the window would look fantastic with Mercedes' skin tone, when his best friend stopped short and cried, "What the hell?"

"What?" Kurt asked, following her gaze into the children's clothing store across the way. There, in a uniform that looked like it probably belonged to the movie theater attached to the end of the mall opposite from Sears, stood Noah Puckerman. And he was fingering baby clothes, almost like he was in a daze.

"Oh, my god…" Kurt breathed, pulling on Mercedes' arm to keep her from going over there. Puck did not need everyone else knowing, Kurt knew. It was enough of a curse living in this town as someone just fabulous to stand out as much as Kurt did. If people found out about Puck? He'd go from middling-status bad boy to freak-of-the-century in exactly no time flat.

"What's he doing in there?" Quinn asked, her brows all scrunched up painfully.

"I heard," Tina said softly. "That even though he got a vasectomy, Puck managed to get another girl pregnant. No one's sure who."

"I know who," Kurt sighed, feeling it as inevitably all eyes turned to him, "but I've been sworn to absolute secrecy. Don't even try getting it out of me."

"But, Kurt-"

Shaking his head, Kurt handed Mercedes' hand to Quinn and said, "You girls go on ahead. I'll go talk to him."

"Don't you think," Quinn broke in, catching up to him after two steps, "that I should talk to him? I've been through this with him before."

"And you think that'll make it better?" Kurt asked, trying to temper his words with a soft tone. "Thanks, Quinn. I'll mention you asked after him, but I've got to do this."

"Okaayy," she drawled, going back to Tina and Mercedes, yet looking at Kurt like he was a little insane. "Call us if you need rescuing."

Kurt chuckled and waved them off.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt hitched his bag further up his shoulder and, clutching the strap like it was a lifeline, walked into the store. He really should tell Puck, shouldn't he? It's not like he could avoid this forever, and Kurt knew that money couldn't solve anything. But as far as he could tell, Puck still hated him and he wasn't overly fond of the jock, either. Why try to force something that wasn't there?

Carefully stepping up beside Puck, Kurt asked softly, "Isn't it a little early for this?"

Puck looked up quickly, recognizing Kurt and shrugging. "Store doesn't close until nine."

"No, I mean," Kurt huffed. "You're not even at three months. So much could still go wrong…"

"What the fuck do you know about it?" Puck asked angrily, rubbing at one of his eyes like he had something in it.

"I know you're supposed to be taking it easy," Kurt insisted, using knowledge gleaned from a month's worth of incessant Google searches. "I know that about half of these pregnancies don't end well. I know it's way too early to start buying baby clothes you might not need, Noah."

"You don't get to fucking call me that," Puck hissed, punching Kurt sort of off-hand in the shoulder and turning away with one hand pressing into both eyes now. Was he crying? "I gotta get back to work."

Kurt knew he should have offered to walk with Puck. He knew he should have told Puck the truth, but all he could do was rub his bruised arm and slowly trail in the opposite direction towards his friends. Kurt knew that Puck needed the money, but he had this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It made him think that unless he made even more money, Puck would have to keep working and the stress would make him lose the baby.

As emancipating as that might be, Kurt just couldn't let it happen.

* * *

_Keep those suggestions coming! They're really helping me flesh out this beast (or should I say Beiste?)_


	5. Disclosure

**Chapter 5 - Disclosure  
**

"Hey, dude?" Finn asked when Kurt got home from the mall. It was the first time they'd seen each other one-on-one since Sunday, and that look on Finn's face said trouble.

"Yes?" Kurt asked, taking his mug of tea and sitting down at the kitchen table, Finn following after.

Wordlessly, Finn pressed a piece of paper into Kurt's hand and made a motion for him to look at it.

Turning the paper over, Kurt's stomach dropped as he realized it was the note he'd left in Puck's locker a week ago. Doing his best to act nonplussed, Kurt asked his stepbrother, "What's this? What baby?"

"Dude," Finn insisted. "That's _your _handwriting! You're Puck's ... baby-daddy-whatever! Why didn't you tell me? I'm your brother now, Kurt!"

Kurt thought about denying Finn's allegation, but he knew that he'd leant the boy too many class notes over the years to think he could get out of this. "What good would it have done? Puck hates me. He doesn't want to know it was me."

"Why would he sleep with you in the first place if he hated you?" Finn asked, taking his cue from Kurt's refusal to fight and lowering his voice.

"I don't know," Kurt replied, having asked himself that same question over and over. "Maybe because we were both drunk? It just sort of happened."

Finn made a screwed up face, like he was trying not to think about Kurt and Puck together and simultaneously picturing them quite clearly. Finally, he shook his head and insisted, "He doesn't hate you, bro."

"Then why has he practically bit my head off every time I've spoken to him since then?" Kurt asked, knowing he wasn't being completely fair. That time he'd run into the Puckermans at the Pick 'n' Save, the boy had been ... tolerable. "Even if he knew who I was, it's not like we'd have anything in common but the baby. Nine days out of ten he'd want to sleep with girls, anyway. There's nothing there, Finn!"

When Finn started laughing, Kurt's lips pursed in confusion. "What?"

"Kurt," Finn said, his grin hopeful somehow, "Puck's been pissed off at everyone lately, even me. I think it's the baby hormones. The other day? In Spanish? Schue asked him a question and Puck told the guy to fuck off and I swear he was crying as he stormed out of the room!"

Huh. Puck actually crying? So Kurt hadn't been seeing things at the mall. "That doesn't mean he doesn't hate me, Finn," Kurt argued.

"Couldnt you at least try?" Finn asked. "Think about that kid, growing up with just Puck as it's dad,-"

"Oh, my..."

"-Kurt. We both know what it's like having only one parent."

Nodding, Kurt realized that Finn had actually made the best point imaginable. "Am I imagining things," he asked, "or did Finn Hudson actually talk some sense into me?"

"That's the spirit, dude!" Finn cried with a wide smile. "Can I-? What if I invite him over for lunch tomorrow? Could you tell him then, before you go back to Westerville?"

Knowing it would mean backing out of at least a few hours of his shift at the tire store, Kurt nodded. This was more important. Kurt was going to be a father - to an actual little person. He couldn't lose sight of that, no matter what else was going on with Puck. Besides, Kurt had the best model for what a father should be like, didn't he? How could he let his kid grow up without a Hummel for a dad?

* * *

Puck hated having to go over to Finn's house for a free lunch, but he knew the less he ate at home, the less his mother would give him that look - that disappointed, do-you-really-think-that's-wise look. He fucking hated that look. It made him want to do things he couldn't anymore, like toss a dweeb into a dumpster or get drunk.

With a sigh, he pulled up at Finn's house and wondered how much longer he was going to fit behind the steering wheel of his mother's Volvo. His stomach was going to bulge and his ass was going to get fat (if he'd learned anything from the whole Quinn situation). At least it hadn't taken her long to bounce back. Puck would just have to live in the gym when he wasn't working or going to school or taking care of his kid. Crap.

When he rang the doorbell, Finn answered, saying, "Hey, dude. C'mon in. Kurt's making us lunch and it smells awesome!"

As soon as he cleared the door, Puck breathed in and nodded in agreement. It smelled ... it smelled kind of like brisket, which had his mouth watering half a second later. "What's the occasion?" Puck asked as he got to the kitchen, where Kurt was working, his prissy clothes protected by a red and white striped apron.

Without looking up, Kurt cleared his throat and said, "I passed all my midterms." Then, the guy took a roast out of the oven, setting it on a cooling rack on the counter. "I just have to make the gravy and it'll be done."

Puck shrugged and grabbed a lemonade out of he fridge. He wanted to go with the Coke that was in there, or maybe one of the beers, but Puck knew Dr. Wu and his mom would both kill him for breaking the pregnancy rules. Maybe he could say there were so many rules, he just forgot and slipped up. Except, those rules were there to protect the baby, weren't they? He'd just have to fucking deal.

Puck turned to Finn to ask where his mom and stepdad were, but before he could speak, the guy's phone started ringing. "Hey, Rach!" he answered, full of that damn optimistic enthusiasm. "What?"

Puck looked over to Kurt, who was watching as Finn's face fell. "Yeah, I'll be right there, babe," the guy said, hanging up his phone with a sigh that seemed a little too forced. "I've gotta go over to Rachel's. She's freaking out about Regionals and if I don't get there soon, someone's getting hurt."

"We wouldn't want that," Kurt said dryly, but there was a little bit of fear behind them when the kid's eyes flicked over to Puck.

"I can just go..." Puck tried to suggest, but Finn shook his head and pushed his friend down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Stay here," he insisted, sending a threatening look Kurt's way. What the fuck was going on here? "Save me some. I'll be back soon."

Kurt nodded and tuned back to the stove, practically ignoring Puck as Finn escaped. Finally getting to ask the question he'd been wondering, Puck said, "Where are the folks, dude?"

"Out shopping," Kurt replied with a giant, unhappy sigh. He was probably pissed he didn't get to go with. Kurt liked shopping, right?

Realizing that he was alone in the house with Kurt Hummel, homo extraordinaire, Puck stood up and said, "Well, I'll just get out of-"

"No!" Kurt cried, turning around and almost dropping a pot full of gravy in his haste. "I mean, I made all this food. You might as well eat while you're here."

Giving Kurt a long, suspicious look, Puck sat back down. The food smelled really good and he didn't want to give that up unless, "Is it Kosher?"

"Yes," Kurt said, rolling his eyes as he cut into the roast. "I don't know if it was blessed or whatever, but I didn't violate any of the other rules."

Mouth watering non-stop, Puck watched as Kurt finished dishing out two plates and took off his apron, hanging it in the pantry before bringing both plates to the table.

"Here," he said, almost dropping the plate on the table in front of Puck. "Dig in."

Not having to be told twice, Puck picked up his fork and began eating. "Good," he murmured trough his first bite, wondering what exactly it would take to get Kurt to feed him more often. Probably unmentionable things.

Puck thought it was a little weird that Kurt wasn't eating, but then the guy cleared his throat and pushed a piece of paper across the table. Looking over and seeing it was the "our baby" note he must have left with Finn, Puck frowned, but he didn't stop eating. "What are you doing with that, Hummel?" he asked around a bit bite of roast.

Sighing loudly, Kurt said, "I wrote it."

It took Puck half a second to realize the implication and then all of a sudden he was choking on the roast and couldn't breathe. Panicking, he stood up and ran to the sink, spitting out a mouthful of food, but still choking to death.

"Oh my god!" Kurt cried, running up beside him. "Can you breathe?"

Eyes watering at his desperate attempts to get that bit of meat out of his windpipe, Puck shook his head.

"Okay," Kurt nodded, starting to move around behind Puck until he stopped and asked, "Where's the baby? I don't want to hurt it…"

Puck put one hand protectively over the bulge on his stomach, the tears really blinding him now. Fucking hell, he was going to die! There was no way that –

Puck's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, dull punch to his stomach, just below his ribs. He tried to take a breath but it didn't work and the punch came again, this time forcing the food out of his throat so that Puck could take a deep, desperate breath. Nothing had ever felt so good and so painful at the same time before. "Thanks," Puck managed to breathe in Kurt's direction, holding himself steady with both hands on the counter in front of the sink.

"Are you…" Kurt asked, coming around to look at Puck's face. "Are you okay now? I knew I shouldn't have told you over food, but Finn said…"

Puck nodded, remembering what had made him start choking in the first place. Clearing his throat and turning to sink down onto the ground, he said, "I'm good. Just gimme a minute, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt agreed, filling a glass of water over Puck's head and then crouching down to hand it to him. "I seriously didn't mean to almost kill you, Puck. I just-"

Puck shook his head and took the glass of water, taking a sip carefully before letting his head fall back against the cupboards, and closing his eyes. It had been Kurt, the night of Rachel's party. Puck could almost remember it now. He definitely remembered Kurt falling into his lap and being a little intrigued, but the guy was too wasted to do anything but vomit all over Rachel's bathroom. And then there had been more shots and a drinking game and then … nothing. Waking up in Rachel's bed.

But knowing it was Kurt he'd been with, he could almost feel the boy's skin under his hands and hear a breathy voice in his ear. He remembered being really horny and a wet tongue on his cock, but none of that added up to it being Kurt, for sure. Without opening his eyes, Puck asked, "I seriously let you fuck me that night?"

Hesitantly, Kurt replied, "Yeah. In fact, you threatened to shave my head if I didn't. You _know_ I can't rock that look."

Puck laughed, imagining Kurt's precious hair falling at the mercy of his clippers. "Yeah, you wouldn't look badass like me," Puck insisted, opening his eyes to look at the guy sitting beside him. "You'd look like you had cancer or something."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, looking away and down at his hands, one finger picking at the others. Then he confessed, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Puck grunted in acknowledgment. He could understand why Kurt didn't. It was really weird, the two of them hooking up, and Puck had been sort of a jerk to Kurt when he brought that first cup of ginger tea. Remembering that conversation, Puck said, "Wait! I'm the jackass that took your v-card?"

The edges of his lips curling just slightly, like he was trying not to smile, Kurt nodded. "You can see why I didn't want to tell you."

"What changed your mind, dude?"

Kurt actually did smile this time as he said, "Finn talked some sense into me."

"Huh," Puck sighed, closing his eyes and resting back against the surface behind him.

"What?"

Grinning, Puck replied, "There really is a first time for everything."

* * *

"So," Kurt asked after getting Puck up and back to the table to finish eating. God, it was no wonder he'd choked when he inhaled his food like that! "Puck? What now?"

"Dunno," the boy replied through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Kurt still couldn't believe he told Puck the truth, but he felt so much better for it. Lighter, but more nervous somehow. And with a million questions.

"We're gonna have a kid together," Kurt pointed out. "Shouldn't we at least try to, I don't know, be on better terms with each other?"

"You really see that happening when you're off at your fancy prep school all the time?" Puck shot back, and Kurt wondered if maybe there were some hurt feelings there that he didn't quite understand. Jealousy, maybe? Not everyone's parents gave up their honeymoon savings to send their kid to a better school.

"If it wasn't for Karofsky," Kurt sighed, "I would come back. Dalton's not all it's cracked up to be."

Puck nodded and seemed to think about this for a long time, finishing up his plate and then, as if he knew Kurt didn't have an appetite after confessing what he had, grabbed Kurt's plate and finished that off, too.

"Wow," Kurt breathed as Puck chewed on the last bite. "I guess you really are eating for two."

The other boy pointed his empty fork at Kurt and growled, "Watch it, dude. I already have my mom on my ass about having to eat so damn much."

"Sorry."

Pushing away from the table and leaning back in his chair, Puck smirked, "I know how you can make it up to me, though."

Fearing Puck would want something _physical_ that Kurt didn't know if he'd ever be ready for again, Kurt winced and asked, "What?"

"Plan on cooking for me on the weekends from now on. That was meal was awesome, man, and it's your kid I'm feeding here."

"Sure," Kurt agreed with a smile. Not only would he be helping Puck out by paying for some of his food, but it would give them some time to get to know one another. Not that Kurt was hoping for a relationship or anything. He knew Puck wouldn't want that, not with him. But they could be friends, right? It would be good for the kid. How had that happened anyway? "Puck?"

"Yeah?" the boy asked as he picked up his plates and brought them to the sink. At least he was trained better than Finn.

"How? I mean, being gay, I never thought I'd have this problem. How did it happen?"

Puck shrugged and leaned back against the refrigerator, crossing his arms over his chest and looking damn appealing, even though Kurt knew it would never happen. "Wu says there must have been a little rip or something when we were done. Your guys got in there and mixed with my eggs from the damn Jewish vegetable ovary I've got in there and … yeah. It's attached to the inside of my abs, here," he said, pointing to that same spot on his lower belly.

Kurt had the strangest urge to put his hand over that spot, but he refrained, instead just nodding his head and letting loose a thoughtful, "Oh."

**

* * *

**_Thanks so much for all your reviews and suggestions. I appreciate them all!_


	6. In Which Everyone Finds Out

**Chapter 6**

All throughout the week, especially in class, Puck couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Kurt Hummel was the other father of his kid. As much of a dork as the guy was, Puck felt like he had missed out, not being able to remember the sex that had gotten him into this situation. That night had been only the second or third time Puck had bottomed for another guy (that he could remember). Just his luck that Kurt freaking Hummel had the stones to do Puck hard enough to get him pregnant.

Come to think of it, a repeat performance was sounding really good right now. Like, _really _good. Damn baby hormones. Would Kurt even go for it? The guy didn't seem to like Puck very much when they were both sober and maybe like Quinn, having had a bad experience the first time would put Kurt off sex for awhile. Though technically, Kurt was a dude. That might make getting into his pants easier…

Too bad he had to wait until the weekend again to see Kurt. He definitely wasn't so desperate that he'd drive all the fucking way to Westerville just to beg his way into getting laid. Maybe he should just go looking for a chick around Lima, or something. His belly was already starting to bulge outward and Puck figured it would be a lot harder to score when he really got fat. God, maybe he should just grab Santana while he still could and get it over with.

But sleeping with someone just for the hell of it didn't feel right either, when there would be a tiny witness. Who knew what the little kidney bean could hear in there? Would it know that Puck was having sex with someone that wasn't its dad?

Damn it... Puck was screwed. And not in the good way, either.

* * *

"Hey, you okay, Kurt?" Blaine asked as he caught up in the hallway between classes. "You've been sort of spaced out the past couple of weeks."

Smiling at his friend's concern, Kurt shrugged, telling the boy, "It's nothing. Just ... family stuff."

"Lay it on me," Blaine grinned. "C'mon, next hour we'll ditch lunch and walk to that diner down the road. I'm a really good listener!"

Kurt sighed in frustration because he knew Puck would kill him if Blaine found out what was going on, but at the same time, he felt like he had no one to talk to here at Dalton. Not about anything more serious than homework and eight-part harmonies. "Okay," Kurt agreed, "but I'll have to change my footwear. I will not subject these boots to the muddy outdoors."

"Alright," Blaine chuckled. "Meet you in the atrium in a hour!"

An hour and fifteen minutes later saw Kurt and his friend claiming two stools at the busy diner's counter and Blaine looking Kurt directly in the eyes, urging him to, "Spill."

Taking a sip of his iced tea, Kurt sighed and said, "I don't know if I should burden you with this."

"Why?" Blaine asked, laying a hand on Kurt's arm. "What's wrong?"

"Can I swear you to secrecy?" Kurt asked, wondering for the millionth time why he and Blaine were still just friends.

The boy smiled and stuck his hand out for Kurt to shake. "Of course."

Kurt shook that hand to seal the deal before taking a deep breath and confessing, "I'm... I've... There's going to be a baby."

Blaine laughed, "I thought that wedding happened really quickly! Why is your new brother or sister such a secret?"

It took Kurt a moment of confusion before he realized the miscommunication. "Not brother or sister," he corrected, eyes on his drink as he stirred it with the straw, "_son_ or _daughter_."

"Wait," Blaine said with a little laugh, which sounded more nervous than amused, "son or daughter?"

Kurt nodded and his friend's face fell.

"You slept with a _girl_? What were you trying to do? Give being straight one last chance?" Blaine touched Kurt's arm again, trying to catch his gaze with this superior, sympathetic look on his face. "I thought you were more sure of yourself than that, Kurt."

"I _didn't_, though," Kurt insisted. "I slept with the most macho guy ever! And yet somehow, he's girly enough to be pregnant."

Blaine scoffed and looked back and forth between his newly arrived food and Kurt before finally saying, "And you _believe_ him?"

"Why would he lie?" Kurt argued, reaching for his bag at his feet. "Besides, he gave me a copy of the ultrasound with his name on it," Kurt pulled the black-and-white picture out of his bag and handed it to Blaine. "I don't think he's smart enough to figure out how to give me the explanation he got from his doctor and Photoshop the ultrasound _and_ fake the incessant vomiting spells."

"What did your dad say about all this?" Blaine asked, handing back the photo and watching as Kurt's face flushed with guilt. "You have told him, haven't you? Kurt?"

"I know, I know," Kurt sighed. "Puck's been trying to get me to tell my dad, too. I'm just so … I don't know how to break it to him gently. I already tried once and I told him about having sex, but I just couldn't say the rest of it."

"What do you think would be worse?" Blaine asked, taking the ketchup from the counter and shaking it at the pile of fries on his plate. "Telling him now and giving him a few months to get used to the idea, or telling him when you show up with a _baby_?"

Kurt let his head fall down into his arms, deftly avoiding getting his sleeves in the salad the waitress had brought him. "The second one," he replied after a minute, the words muffled by the wool of his Dalton jacket. "The second one would be a lot worse."

"Yeah."

After a minute or two of silence, Kurt brought his head back up and started picking at his salad, "You're right. I know you are." Kurt was going to have to talk to his dad, and soon. It just felt easier not having to confront that conversation as well as the ones he was going to have to have with Puck about what would happen with the baby when all was said and done. Maybe if he figured some of that out before talking to his dad, Kurt wouldn't feel like such an irresponsible idiot whose life was going to change drastically. He hadn't even let himself think about what this might mean for his after-high-school plans.

Blaine led him stew for another minute, taking polite bites of his club sandwich and chewing them thoughtfully, until he cleared his throat and asked, "So this other guy, you called him 'Puck'?"

Kurt nodded. "Short for Noah Puckerman."

"The guy in your old glee club?" Blaine asked and Kurt hummed in agreement as he chewed. "So … are you and he…?"

Shrugging, Kurt told his friend, "I don't think so. I mean, we're hanging out on the weekends and everything, but I don't think he even likes me."

"And yet he slept with you…"

"We were _drunk_," Kurt explained, wondering how many times in his life he was going to have to tell this story. _Meet my kid, so-and-so, he's here because my friend and I got drunk at a party!_ Didn't that just make a child feel loved?

"Relationships have been built on rockier foundations," Blaine said. "I mean, take my parents – they met each other in Atlantic City and decided to get married, because it would be funny. They've been together twenty-five years."

Would Kurt be with Puck twenty-five years from now? Did he even want to try? There was no question that Puck was attractive, but looks would fade and then what would be left? "We have _nothing_ in common, he's kind of a jackass, and he's straight," Kurt explained. "I really don't think it would happen."

"Being drunk doesn't make straight guys sleep with other guys, Kurt."

Kurt conceded the point with a roll of his eyes and a flip of his hand, replying, "He's still kind of a jackass. I don't see us working out as anything more than friends."

"If you say so," Blaine replied with a slight smile that Kurt couldn't quite read.

* * *

Though the morning sickness was starting to get better, it still happened, and at weird times, too. One day, he caught a whiff of someone's week-old science project about potato-powered clocks and that was it. Puck ran down the hallway, just making it to the men's room before losing his lunch. It was sloppy joes that day, too. All that beautiful ground beef, wasted. "Damn it, kid," Puck said to his belly bump, "I wasn't done with that yet."

"Well," a guy's voice said from outside the stall, which Puck had conveniently forgot to lock behind him in his haste not to make Mr. Kinney's shit list again this week (man, janitors could hold a grudge!). "What do we have here?" The stall door opened to reveal Karofsky and his side-kick Azimio, looking down on him with big-ass smirks on their faces. Crap. "Talking to yourself, Puckerman?"

"Hey, boys," Puck said, flushing the toilet and pushing himself up off the floor with a groan. "You two come here for a quickie before eighth? I'll get out of your way."

"What are you talking about, you crazy-ass motherfucker?" Azimio asked, laughing and smacking Karofksy's arm as if to get him in on the joke. "Get it? Because he's slept with so many moms!"

The other jock did not look so amused. In fact, Karofsky looked downright homicidal as he said, "You don't get to fucking talk about us that way, _Puck_. Or are you forgetting that _you're_ the one sleeping with homos like Kurt freaking Hummel? That's just gross, dude!"

Puck wanted to roll his eyes and tell Azimio that his boy Karofksy was hardly completely straight, either, but he also didn't want the baby to get hurt, so he just asked, "Where'd you hear that?"

"Overheard Hudson and his little girlfriend," Azimo laughed. "They were arguing about it in the hallway this morning. Somethin' about the two of you hooking up at one of Rachel's lame-ass parties. You gonna deny it?"

"Whatever," Puck replied, staring Karofsky down as he headed for the door. "See ya later, losers."

Puck wasn't exactly keeping his flexibility about sex partners a secret, but all the other dudes he'd fooled around with had wanted to keep everything private, and Puck figured not boasting about it was better for his rep, anyway. He'd never been with an out-and-open gay dude like Kurt before. Would he even care if everybody knew? In any case, if Finn and Rachel were going to go around arguing about it, how long before the whole school knew? Puck had always thought it looked lame trying to deny the truth when everybody already knew it (like that freak, Sandy Ryerson), so he wasn't going to whine and insist that his thing with Kurt had never happened.

Besides, he and Kurt were having a kid together. It was going to come out eventually.

* * *

Kurt was trying to study for his test the next day when the phone at his side rang. Again. Noting the caller ID, Kurt picked up the phone, accepted the call, and said, "For the hundredth effing time tonight, what is it, Puck?"

In a voice that was vaguely hoarse, Puck groaned, "I changed my mind about the pickles, dude. I never want to eat again!"

Covering his mouth so Puck wouldn't hear him laugh at the jock's discomfort, Kurt took a breath and then said gently, "You have to eat, Noah. What did you have for dinner?"

"I ate some of that lasagna you left. It wasn't so awesome coming back up," Puck admitted and briefly, Kurt winced in sympathetic nausea. "And lasagna isn't kosher, man."

"It was vegetarian lasagna, so it _was_ kosher, and why would you even eat it if you thought it wasn't?" Sometimes it seemed like bitching to Kurt over the phone about food was Puck's new favorite hobby.

"Dunno," Puck replied. "It smelled good. Maybe you could make some more when you come back tomorrow night?"

Kurt sighed and took out his shopping list for that weekend's cooking marathon, which had to happen when he wasn't working in the garage or trying to get at least a few hours of beauty sleep. Scanning down the list, he crossed off "dill and sweet pickles" and wrote down a few more items before asking, "Any other specific requests of the hour?"

"Maybe some barbecue chips, but not the greasy kind, the ones that taste kinda like cardboard covered in spicy dust," Puck said, sounding very sure of his decision. Of course, he had been _absolutely sure _about the pickles, too.

"Those baked chips?" Kurt clarified, writing Puck's newest request at the bottom of his (half crossed-out) list.

"Yeah, those. Thanks, babe," Puck said as he hung up, which just left Kurt staring at his phone like it had grown another head.

Babe?

Was it just Puck's weird habit of giving people nicknames? Was Puck just so used to talking to girls over the phone that it slipped out? Did it mean something more? Could Kurt even handle it if it did mean something more?

And now that all those questions were swirling around in his head, how was Kurt ever going to pass the test he had in the morning?

* * *

"Uh, boys?" Burt said when he stuck his head into Finn's room, where he, Puck and Kurt were all sitting in front of the game system. Kurt had decided to ignore the "babe" comment on Thursday and now it was Sunday and Puck hadn't said it again or even mentioned it happening. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. At the sound of Burt's voice, all three teenagers turned their heads. "I mean, _my_ boys. Finn and Kurt?"

"Yeah, dad?" Kurt replied, noticing how confused the man looked.

"Can I talk to you a minute? In the kitchen?"

"Sure, Burt," Finn replied, handing his game controller to Puck and telling him to, "Get it all set up, dude. We'll be right back."

Once in the kitchen, Burt said, "Is something going on that I should know about?"

Finn instantly looked to Kurt, who rolled his eyes at the boy's lack of discretion. "Like what, dad?"

"That Puckerman kid has been over here all weekend for the past two weeks. Is something going on with his family? Like, with his mom? I mean, I'm all for letting you boys help out a friend, but some things you can't handle on your own."

"Like what?" Kurt asked, backhanding Finn's arm when he gave Kurt a significant look. He knew he should tell his dad the truth, but wasn't it a little soon? Kurt had been thinking of teaching the man some Zen relaxation techniques before telling him, to stave off a stress heart-attack.

"I don't know," Burt insisted. "Did his mom get laid off or something? He eats so much when he's over here, it's like nobody's feeding him at home."

"It really is," Kurt sighed, hoping that the soup he made for dinner would be enough to go around. "But his family's fine, really. I'm sure Puck thanks you for the concern. Now if you'll excuse us…"

"Finn?" Burt asked in that low voice that tended to scare the tall boy into telling him what he wanted to know. "What's really going on?"

"I really don't think it's my place to-" Finn started, only to get cut off by the man's growl.

"Finn…" Crap. Finn's resolve was crumbling under just that one syllable. If only he could get the guy out of the room in the next two seconds.

Covering his head like he expected Burt to start swinging, Finn yelped, "Kurt got Puck pregnant!"

Kurt's mouth dropped. He couldn't believe Finn would betray both him and Puck like this, not to mention the confused and pissed look on his dad's face. "Kurt _what_?" Burt cried, taking off his hat and scratching his head. "But, Puck's a _boy_, isn't he? Pregnant? Is this some sort of slang that I don't understand?"

"'Fraid not, Mr. Hummel," Puck said from the hallway, pushing his way in between Kurt and Finn. "And for the record, I told Kurt to tell you as soon as I found out he was the dude I slept with that night."

"'As soon as you found out'?" Burt repeated, turning to look at Kurt, who fought the urge to hide behind Puck for the protection his height and condition might provide. They'd been hanging out, along with Finn most of the time, for two weekends in a row, and even if they weren't exactly friends yet, Kurt felt like his relationship with the jock was at least _friendly_. And then there was the whole "babe" incident that he just couldn't forget about, no matter how hard he tried. Glaring, Burt asked, "Was this the talk you were trying to have with me about a month ago?"

Kurt nodded, swallowing nervously and waving Finn out of the room. "I knew I should have told you then, dad, but I was worried about you, with your heart, and-"

"Bull!" Burt cried. "Kurt! I thought we had the kind of relationship where we could talk about things like this! Don't play this off like you were concerned for my health, when we both know it was because you didn't trust me to know this! I'm disappointed in you, son!"

Sick with guilt, Kurt couldn't stop the tears from escaping. He tried to take a deep breath to ground himself, but only succeeded in sobbing quietly. At his side, Puck squeezed Kurt's hand. Surprised, Kurt looked over at the other boy, who nodded sharply in some sort of solidarity. "I'm sorry, dad," Kurt sighed, wiping away a few tears. "I know I can trust you, I just…" Kurt thought of several more explanations for his behavior, but he knew none of them would be good enough. "I'm sorry."

Burt nodded, momentarily appeased, but still with that grimace of disappointment on his face. "What are you two planning to do about this?"

Kurt and Puck looked at one another and after half a second the jock said, "I'm keeping it and Kurt's feeding me. That's about as far as we've gotten, as far as decisions go."

Frowning again, Burt asked, "This is why you've been working so many hours at the garage?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Medical bills."

Sighing roughly, Burt readjusted his baseball cap and ordered, "Get your stuff together, son. I'm taking you back to school now."

"But, my casserole…"

"Tell Carole how to finish it and move your ass, Kurt."

"Fine!" he said, holding up his hands in surrender and giving Puck one last look before running off to collect his things. Kurt knew when his dad could be cajoled and when just to not even try.

* * *

"You," Burt said, pointing to Puck in a way that probably wasn't supposed to be threatening, but sure felt like it. "Tell your mother I wanna have a sit-down with all of us about this. Friday dinner. I expect you both to be here."

"I don't know if…"

"Be here, Puckerman," Burt ordered taking half a step forward and pointing at Puck's stomach. "If this isn't just some prank you're pulling to con money off my son and that's _my_ grandchild in there? I'm gonna have a say in how this all goes down. Got it?"

Puck nodded hastily, wondering when Kurt was going to get back and how much longer he was going to have to put up with this man. As a rule, dads and Puck just didn't get along. Mothers he could deal with. He'd had enough practice with his own mom and with cougars, that he knew just how to turn them to putty in his hands. Dads? Yeah, same tricks definitely wouldn't work.

Then, scratching his eyebrow, Burt took half a step closer and said, "Let me ask you somethin'. Are you and my son _together_?"

"Not," Puck tried to explain, "… no." But his words only made the expression on Burt's face darker. "I mean, not … yet?"

Scoffing with a frown so like Kurt's it wasn't even funny, Burt grumbled, "You two've really got it ass-backwards, haven't ya?"

"Completely."

"Get outta here, kid," Burt ordered him, grabbing Puck's jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs and shoving it at the jock. "We'll see you on Friday."

Sending one last wistful look to the casserole in the oven behind Burt, Puck nodded and followed orders. Hey, the doctor said to avoid stressing the baby, and Puck was pretty sure getting into arguments with baby-grandaddies was fairly stressful.

* * *

"C'mon, Finn! Five-six-seven-eight. It's like you're not even trying!"

Puck was sick and tired of rehearsing this damn dance move in glee. Rachel and Schue kept yelling at Finn, Mike was making it look way too easy for the rest of the guys, and Puck's dance partner, Tina, was starting to get sweaty hands. Like, real bad. Plus, since Kurt got his parole revoked by Mr. Hummel a few hours too early, Puck had been living on barbecue chips and whatever his mom decided to bring home, which was usually boring and not nearly as good as the meals Kurt had been making him. As it turned out, though, the baby didn't like eating only potato chips and water, because all of a sudden Puck got lightheaded and the world tilted sideways.

"Oh my god, Puck!" Tina cried as she dropped down beside him. "Are you okay?"

Santana's reaction was a little different, her mean laughter filling the room as she asked, "Walk much, Puckerman? Or did you catch a case of two left feet from hanging out at Hudson's house so often lately?"

Shit. He should have known she'd be pissed about him blowing her booty calls off for the past six weeks.

The room spun around Puck a little, but as Finn rushed toward him too, he insisted, "I'm good. I'm good. I just-" his words were cut off when a sharp pain sliced at his gut, making him curl up and want to die. Air hissed through Puck's clenched teeth as he met Finn's eyes and admitted, "Okay. Spoke too soon."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Finn asked, scrunching up his face in the direction of Puck's ever-growing baby bump.

"Why would Puck need to go to the hospital, Finn?" Mr. Schuester asked, waving all the students into backing away to give Puck some room, while at the same time taking Puck's elbow as if to help him up. "It's probably just dehydration."

"But what if it isn't?" Finn argued, looking to Puck as if searching for the answer to whether he could tell the teacher what was really going on or not. "I _knew_ you shouldn't have been dancing, but you insisted on not telling anyone!"

"Telling anyone _what_?" Quinn asked, crouching over Finn's shoulder with a furious, worried scrunch to her eyebrows.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Puck cried as the hot pain grew, and he wasn't sure if the burning threat of tears in his eyes was because of the pain or because it meant something could be wrong with the baby. "Yeah, Hudson, I wanna go to the hospital. Fuck the medical bills. I'm not losing this damn kid."

"What?" Schue asked, confused as Puck let Finn help him into one of the wheelchairs left over from the previous year's _Proud Mary_ number.

"I'm calling Dr. Wu," Puck pressed on, pulling his phone out of his pocket and ignoring Quinn's confused, "The baby doctor?" Looking up to Finn, he ordered, "You call Kurt."

"Kurt?" Mercedes asked as the whole glee club ran (or wheeled) alongside Puck as Finn pushed him toward the exit. "Why would Kurt need to know about you going to the hospital?"

As Finn turned them around for a quick exit, pushing the doors with his back, Puck came face-to-face with his glee club. Figuring what the hell, they probably weren't going to let it be after this, he placed a hand on his still-easily-hidden-by-loose-clothes baby bump and told everyone, "Because it's Kurt's kid I might be losing."

The shocked and skeptical looks on all their faces were almost worth whatever might come of spilling the beans. Mostly he was worried whether or not Santana would call up Rod Remington at Channel 5 and exactly how much Kurt would kill him for telling the dude's best friend before he worked up the courage to do it himself.

* * *

_Let me know what you thought and what you might like to see in future chapters. There most likely won't be another one until next week sometime, due to the holidays. Merry Christmas, everyone!_


	7. Anesthesia

**Chapter 7 - Anesthesia  
**

Sitting in his last class of the day, Kurt winced when his phone buzzed in his pocket. For being on silent, his damn iPhone sure vibrated loudly. However, since he was supposed to be taking notes on a lecture about thematic devices, Kurt ignored the call, almost sighing in relief when it stopped buzzing for attention against his leg.

It started again only thirty seconds later. Pursing his lips in annoyance, Kurt dug his phone out of his pocket and set it in his lap under the desk. Before he could look at it, though, the teacher asked a question he knew the answer to, so he raised his hand. Mrs. Finch never really called on him, though, so while another boy was answering the question and when his phone gave one last, short buzz, Kurt looked down at the text message displayed clearly on the opening screen.

_Mercedes: Taking Puck to the hspital, bb. wants u 2 b ther._

The hospital? That could only mean something was wrong with the baby, right? Did Mercedes even know about the baby? Kurt knew _he _hadn't told her. Heart beating so loudly he was sure his classmates could hear it, Kurt raised his hand and asked to be excused.

"What for, please, Mr. Hummel?"

"Family emergency," he replied. "Immediate family in the hospital."

"Alright, then," Mrs. Finch agreed. "Make sure to stop at the headmaster's office and explain the situation to them."

"Will do," Kurt nodded, gathering up his things and stuffing them into his bag. Knowing there was no way he could sit and stew about what might be wrong with Puck and the baby on a three hour bus ride, he packed as quickly as he could and went searching for another ride. "Blaine!" he called, hustling to catch up to the other boy as he left his classroom. "I need a favor."

"Okay," Blaine agreed, leading Kurt to the side of the hallway. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow your car?" he asked breathlessly, expecting his friend to say no, because Blaine's BMW was _his _baby. "Puck's in the hospital."

"Oh, no," Blaine replied, looking at Kurt for a moment before digging in his pocket for a set of keys. "Are you good to drive? I could come with, if you want?"

Looking down at the way his hands were shaking, Kurt nodded. "Yeah, that would be great, Blaine. Thank you."

"Just let me get my overnight bag and change out of the uniform. I'll be back in five minutes."

Even five minutes felt like too long to wait, but Kurt nodded gratefully anyway. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Kurt dialed Mercedes' number, hoping for good news.

"There you are, baby!" Mercedes cried when she answered the phone. "Where are you?"

"About to leave for Lima," Kurt replied. "What the eff is going on?"

"Puck fell in glee just now," Mercedes explained, and she sounded out of breath, like she was running or something. "Finn's taking him to the hospital."

"Oh, god," Kurt breathed, images of Puck in pain and a lost baby firing behind his terrified eyes. "Which hospital? Which one, Mercedes?"

"Whichever one Finn rembers to go to," the girl replied. "I'll call you again when we get there, 'cause you have some 'splainin' to do, baby boy."

"Okay. Thank you," he said softly, wishing for the best. He was just starting to get used to the idea of a baby. It seemed a shame for all that worrying and (in-his-head) planning to go to waste. No, Puck and the baby had to be alright, didn't they?

By the time Blaine found him, Kurt was crying. "Hey," the boy said gently, patting Kurt's back. "Hey, what's wrong? Is it bad?"

"I don't know," Kurt whispered, and he felt like not knowing exactly what was going on was the worst part of this whole situation. "But Puck fell and now he's in the hospital."

"C'mon," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand. "Let's go find out."

Kurt couldn't help but give Blaine a grateful smile and let him lead them out to the student parking lot.

* * *

"But," the ER nurse said for the hundredth time, "I don't understand..."

Wheeling up next to Finn, Puck broke in to the conversation and said, "I fell. Everything hurts. Give me a bed and call Dr. Wu!"

"But..."

"Just do it!" he cried, losing what little patience he had. "I could be dying, lady! My ... just call Dr. Wu. He knows what's up."

"Maybe we should wait for your mother to-"

"Who the fuck knows when she'll be able to get here!" Puck cried, as Finn started squeezing his shoulder, probably to get him to watch his language. Why should he watch it when this bitch was too stupid to follow directions? Despite Finn's heavy hand, Puck stood up to get in her face, but as soon as he did, everything faded to black and he had to sit down again, hard. If not for Finn, Puck would have missed the chair and fallen on the floor again. It would serve that lady right...

"Dude?" Finn asked, and Puck still couldn't see him. "You look really pale."

"I don't like it either," the nurse agreed and by the time Puck's eyes started working again, the nurse and some other dude in scrubs were practically lifting him up onto a bed, Finn beside them, biting his nails. Wuss.

After poking and prodding him for a minute, the nurse told the other guy, "His BP is way too low, go get a doctor." The guy ran off and came back with a lady in a white lab coat.

"What's up?" she said, giving Puck a smile and making him notice how young and pretty she was for a doctor. Damn, if he wasn't knocked up, Puck would be all over that, like white on rice. Breifly, while the nurse was trying to explain his case to the doctor, Puck wondered how much longer it would take Kurt to get there and whether he would keep feeding Puck if there was no more baby and prayed to G-d that he would get to have sex once more before he died.

"Here are the charts," another nurse broke into the conversation, "from Dr. Wu's office. They look legit."

The doctor snatched the folder and flipped through it, studying some of the pages intensely before turning to the second nurse and ordering, "Get the fetal heart monitor, right now."

"What's going on?" Finn asked, but everyone except Puck ignored him.

Instead, the doctor came to the side of Puck's bed and gently lifted up his shirt. "Tell me if this hurts," she said, laying a flat hand on his stomach and tapping it sharply with two fingers from the other hand, sending pain shooting through Puck's entire body.

"Yeah," he gasped. "That fucking hurts!"

"Okay," she nodded, picking up a pen and marking something down in his chart. By the time she was done, the second nurse came back with a machine on a cart and the first nurse melted away. Without wasting any time, the doctor strapped Puck's lower belly into the contraption and flicked the switch.

The room filled with the steady whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noise Puck remembered from Dr. Wu's office, which had to mean the baby was still alive, right? Then why was the doctor frowning? Smartly, she snapped open Puck's chart again, tracing the pages with her fingers until she came to the part she wanted. "The fetus' heart rate is slightly too slow. And with the tenderness in your belly ... I'm going to recommend an MRI and emergency exploratory surgery. The sooner we find out what's wrong, the better."

"Fuck, really?" Puck asked, distracted from his fascination with the heart monitor and sharing a scared look with Finn. "You're not gonna hurt the kid by cutting into me, are you?"

"The surgeons will do their best to keep you both alive," the doctor nodded, giving a note to the nurse at her side. "But you have to know, if things go badly during surgery, their first priority is you, not the baby."

"Shit," Puck breathed, watching as one of the nurses stuck a needle in his arm and attached a bag of something clear that made his arm kind of cold as it dripped in. "How long until the surgery?"

"An hour, tops," the doctor insisted. "It would be best if we could get your mother's consent before surgery. Do you know the best way to contact her?"

"Call her work number," Puck replied, digging his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through the numbers to find the right one. "She's the receptionist," he said, hitting the dial button and handing the phone over.

"Hello?" asked the doctor, taking to his mom about consent and insurance and crap.

Uninterested in that at the moment, Puck turned to Finn and said, "Thanks, dude. For being here."

"It's just until Kurt gets here with Blaine," Finn insisted, taking an awkward seat in the chair next to Puck's bed. "Then he can sit here and worry about you two."

"That Blaine kid's coming?" Puck asked, disappointed. Kurt was his baby's daddy. Weren't they supposed to try to be together or something? "What, are he and Kurt, like, dating or whatever?"

"Not that I know of," Finn replied, holding up his phone. "Mercedes just says that Kurt said he was too scared to drive, so Blaine's bringing him."

"Oh," Puck replied. "Well, that's cool."

A weird, lopsided smile grew on Finn's face before he grinned, "You were jealous, weren't you, dude?"

"Whatever," Puck shrugged, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. Not even Finn.

* * *

Kurt stalked through the halls of Lima General, Blaine close on his heels, as he tried to find the surgery ward, where maybe he could finally get some answers. "Kurt!" his dad's voice called from the hallway he'd just passed, making him stop and turn around.

"Dad!" Kurt cried. "What's going on? Where's Puck? Is he out of surgery yet?"

"Not yet, kiddo," Burt shook his head, pitting a hand on Kurt's shoulder for support. "C'mon. The waiting room's this way. I sent Finn for food, if you or your friend are hungry."

Oh, yeah. "Dad, this is Blaine. Blaine, my Dad - Burt Hummel."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Blaine said politely, shaking Burt's hand as they walked down the hallway.

When they got to one room, Burt turned in and Kurt followed. The waiting room was pretty empty, except for Mercedes, Quinn, and a woman who had to be Puck's mom, partially because she looked a lot like the jock and partially because Burt handed her a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Kurt," Mercedes said as she stood up, hugging him tightly. Then, when they broke apart and Kurt was counting himself lucky to have such good friends, she cuffed him on the side of the head. "What the crap, Kurt? Why didn't you tell me about all this?"

"Ow," he frowned, fixing his hair. "I'm sorry, Mercedes. I guess I was in denial or something."

"I'm still not sure I believe it..." Blaine smirked, earning a smile from Mercedes.

"If something goes wrong, maybe you won't have to," Kurt sighed, helpless. He'd been getting used to Puck over the past few weeks, as well as the idea of a baby. What of there was no more baby? Puck would just start ignoring him again, wouldn't he? What if there was no more Puck? Scared and on the verge of crying again, Kurt sank down into the seat beside his father. He didn't know what else to do.

* * *

When Puck came out of it after the surgery, he idly recognized his mother sitting in the chair next to his, but his eyes kept wanting to focus on the TV up in the corner of the room. He couldn't even understand the pictures flashing across the screen. Shit, it was frustrating. Wait. Wasn't he supposed to ask something? Oh, yeah. Clearing his throat, but still unable to look away from the TV, Puck asked the room, "Is the baby okay?"

"Oh! You're awake!" his mother cried, switching off the TV, which allowed him finally to look away. "What did you say, sweetie?"

"Baby okay?" Puck asked, trying to rub the anesthesia out of his eyes and missing awkwardly.

"Yes, Noah," his mother replied, her voice soft and her hand capturing his wayward one which still wouldn't fucking rub his eye. "The baby's still alive. When you're more coherent the doctor can tell you about what happened with the surgery and everything."

"So..." Puck said, hating the taste of his tongue but not really knowing what to do about it. "Is the baby okay?"

Puck's mom chuckled, which he thought was a pretty weird response to a serious question. "Yes, Noah. The baby is okay."

"Okay," he nodded, feeling like maybe he was rushing this whole awake business. But wasn't there something important he was supposed to ask? He knew now he'd had surgery, because of the- "Is the baby okay?"

"Yes," his mother replied, rolling her eyes and turning the TV back on. Damn TV. It didn't make any fucking sense.

A while later, someone knocked on the door, but Puck couldn't look to see who it was because he was just starting to figure out the TV. It had people on it and the blonde chick was trying to break up with the old dude, but Puck couldn't for the life of him remember their names.

"Puck?" someone called from the doorway. "Can I come in?"

It sounded maybe like a nurse or that dude from school who made awesome lasagna. "Sure," Puck replied, still staring at the TV. "Do you know their names, dude?"

"The cast of General Hospital?" the voice asked, and Puck wished he could force his eyes away from the TV. "I don't really…. Are you okay?"

"I'm cool," Puck replied, wondering if this person knew the answer to the question he kept not getting the answer to. "Do you know if the baby's okay?"

There was a long pause until the person was standing right next to Puck's bed and waving a hand in front of his face. "Wow. Your mom said you were out of it, but I guess I didn't really know what that meant. Is there a reason you're not looking at me?"

"The TV is on," Puck explained, pointing at it dumbly. "I can't look away. It's like, crack or something, man. And hey, do you know if the baby's okay?"

"The doctor told your mom that it's doing well, now that they got the rip in the placenta all patched up," he said, reaching over Puck and grabbing the remote from that side of the bed. The TV clicked off and finally, Puck could look over at his visitor.

"Kurt! It's you!" he grinned, grabbing the boy's hand. "You're not supposed to be here until Friday. Wait, is today still Wednesday?"

"Technically it's Thursday," Kurt replied, "since it's after midnight. I don't even think I'm supposed to be in here, but your mom is harassing the nurses, and I … I guess I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"So it's a secret?" Puck whispered, tugging on Kurt's hand so he would lean closer. "What if you get in trouble? You haven't been to jail, babe. It's not somewhere you'd ever want to go."

"They're not going to send me to jail for visiting you, Puck," Kurt insisted, finally relenting to Puck's awkward tugging and sitting down on the bed next to him. "You know, Finn said you totally passed out in glee club and then told all our friends about this … situation. You knew I wanted to tell Mercedes first."

Confused over all Kurt's words (damn this kid was more confusing than the TV), Puck asked, "Who's Mercedes? Mercedes Benz?" Snorting at his own joke, Puck shifted on his pillows to get more comfortable.

"My best friend, Mercedes," Kurt sighed. "You dated her last year?"

Puck thought that she sounded vaguely familiar, so he shrugged and said, "I date a lotta people, babe. And do the nasty with even more of them."

"And that's why you're pregnant," Kurt scoffed, "on top of getting Quinn pregnant last year. At this pace, you'll be contributing single-handedly to the world's overpopulation."

Wait. Puck was even more confused now. Why would Kurt say those things? Wasn't he happy about the baby? (By the way, was the baby still okay?) Wasn't he going to keep feeding Puck and spending time with him and hopefully letting Puck back in his pants sometime soon? "You don't want it?"

"Oh my god," Kurt breathed. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, Puck! Please don't cry."

Puck did not cry. The meds made his eyes tear up. That's all.

"I _do_ want the baby, Puck," Kurt insisted, grabbing Puck's face and making their eyes meet. "I didn't think I would, but I'm getting used to it now, and I think it's going to be amazing. As long as you get your head out of your ass and take care of yourself. Do you know how bad this could have been? They had to give you a whole bunch of new blood and everything."

"Too many words," Puck sighed, wiping away not-a-tear before putting his hands on Kurt's over his face and holding them there. "And I can't… I can't remember. Did you tell me the baby's okay?"

"Yeah, Puck," Kurt replied, leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead in a way that was frustratingly nice. "The baby's okay. For now."

Puck nodded. "For now."

* * *

_Let me know what you thought and what you might like to see in future chapters, especially about the Kurt/Mercedes/Glee Club showdown that has to happen._

_Also, I'm sad to report that these next six months are going to be major crunch-time for me at work, so updates will be slow to happen. Sorry, but there's not much I can do, short of giving up six months away from getting my doctorate, which is not going to happen, let me tell you._


	8. Pamphlets and Flowers

**Chapter 8 – Pamphlets and Flowers**

By the time Mrs. Puckerman came back into the room, Puck had fallen asleep clutching Kurt's hand so tightly, he was afraid to move away. The way the doctor talked about it, keeping the baby had been a very close thing, and it scared Kurt to no end. Maybe if he stayed here in Lima and kept his eyes on Puck at every second, things wouldn't go wrong again. They couldn't, as long as he was watching, right? Looking up at Puck's mother, Kurt shrugged wordlessly, hoping she would understand him still being there.

"So you're Kurt?" the woman asked, rounding Puck's bed and taking the chair on the far side.

Kurt nodded in response, noticing how tired, but hard, the woman looked. He guessed being Puck's single parent couldn't be easy, especially since Puck wasn't an only child like Kurt. Now that he thought of Puck's sister, Kurt asked, "Is Sarah okay?"

Mrs. Puckerman smiled wearily and nodded, "She's with my mother at the house. It was kind of you to ask."

During the long and awkward pause between when Kurt mumbled, "You're welcome," and when Mrs. Puckerman spoke again, Kurt wondered if maybe he wasn't welcome here. Maybe Puck's mom wanted to be alone with the boy, since he had just gotten out of surgery. Maybe things would be okay if she was there to watch Puck in Kurt's place. Now, if only he could get free. Kurt tried his damnedest to get his hand out of Puck's grip without waking him, but the boy just wouldn't let go.

With a chuckle when she finally noticed what Kurt was doing, Mrs. Puckerman said, "He always holds on too tightly. Here," she offered, leaning in and petting Puck's scalp from forehead to nape until he murmured and loosened his grip. Kurt pulled his hand free with a sigh, suddenly not sure why he wanted Puck to let go in the first place. He just looked so … peaceful, and that made him much more attractive in Kurt's eyes.

"He's lucky to have you as his mom," Kurt insisted, standing up to go. Even if Puck was having his baby, and even if Kurt wanted to stay with him until he woke up, just to make sure Puck was alright, Kurt felt like an intruder. It wasn't like they'd had a relationship and got married and _then _decided to have a kid. What rationale could he argue to be allowed to stay? Puck thought maybe Kurt was okay on days he cooked for the guy? Puck found Kurt attractive enough to sleep with while drunk, once? No, it was better to go, and leave the Puckerman family in peace, and trust that they would keep an eye on Puck to make sure both he and the baby made it through this ordeal intact.

Just before he got to the door, Mrs. Puckerman called softly, "Are you going back to that fancy school of yours?"

Wondering whether she meant in the morning or at all, Kurt decided the answer was the same for both. "I don't know."

"Well, if you're still in Lima tomorrow at eight, I expect you to be here to listen to what Noah's doctor has to say about this situation of yours. Alright?"

"Okay," Kurt agreed, gladder for the invitation than put off by the guilt the woman managed to lace into every word. It was like everything she said to him was secretly a condemnation for getting Puck pregnant. Kurt thought he probably deserved it. "I'll be here."

"Good," Mrs. Puckerman said as Kurt left, her voice a little softer and a little nicer than it had been.

* * *

When Puck woke up, it was just starting to get light out and Quinn was sitting in the chair beside him instead of his mother. Great. "Hey," he said, getting her attention as he struggled to sit up, hissing at the pain from the surgical wounds. "What're you doing here?"

Quinn looked up from whatever she'd been reading - homework probably - her face blank and open for a split second before she closed it off again. Smirking, she asked, "Do you even remember who I am? Kurt said you were pretty messed up after your surgery."

"I was?" Puck asked, not able to remember much since being wheeled into the operating room. "Kurt's here?"

Quinn chuckled a little, putting her books to the side and scooting her chair a little closer. "He said you wouldn't stop asking about the baby."

"Oh, god! Is -?"

"It's fine," Quinn insisted, resting one of her hands on his shoulder. "_Everything's_ fine. Well, Mercedes is freaking out a little, and the rest of the club is really confused." Puck nodded; he supposed confusion was to be expected. Hell, some days even he was confused about the whole thing. Like, how exactly were they going to get the kid out? It was kind of trapped there between all his internal organs. They were going to have to cut him open again, weren't they? Maybe he could pass off the scars as something he got during an epic fight, last-man-standing sort of brawl.

"So you're here...?"

Looking down at her hands, Quinn said, "I'm here because I … Well, I've been through this, I guess, if you want to talk about it."

Puck looked the girl up and down as best he could without moving. (Man, getting sliced open like a fish was hell!) Quinn sat beside him, eyes not exactly with his, but like she had to look past him or something. Concerned that she might be losing it or something, Puck asked, "Do _you_ want to talk about it? I mean, I've known about this for awhile now, so I'm cool with it."

"Cool with it?" Quinn asked with a scoff. "You're having a _child_, Puck. At _seventeen_. You can't just be 'cool with it'!"

"Why not?" Puck asked with a defiant sneer. "I know things aren't gonna be easy, but I _can do_ this, Quinn."

"Here," she said, reaching down into her backpack and tossing a pamphlet at him. "Just … read that, okay?"

"_The Adoption Process_?" Puck read, his neck heating up with anger. "What the fuck? Why would you give this to me? I didn't want to give up Beth, why would I give up this one when I actually get a fucking say in what happens?"

"Do you know why I gave my baby-"

"Our baby," Puck corrected her.

Sighing, Quinn nodded and asked, "Do you know why I gave her up?"

"Because you didn't want her," Puck replied, seriously contemplating ripping Quinn's stupid-ass pamphlet into tiny little pieces.

"I _did_ want her," Quinn insisted, surprising him with the soft vehemence of her words and the tears shining in her eyes. "I wanted to keep her _so much_, but I knew that she would be better off with parents who weren't us and I knew _we_ would be better off not being parents until we're older and ready for it. I did it _for you_, so you wouldn't be stuck here looking after us. Think about Kurt in all this. If you keep it, Puck, you're trapping him here. You're making him a Lima Loser, and he's the only one of us glee freaks who really _needs_ to get out."

Puck had been building up the rage to tell Quinn off, until she mentioned Kurt. He'd never really thought about what this might do to Kurt's life. He was a good guy, too. He deserved to stay in that fancy school of his and out of Lima.

"Kurt can leave if he wants to," Puck insisted. "I can do this by myself if I have to."

Quinn frowned and stood up, throwing her coat over her Cheerios uniform and hefting her bag onto one shoulder. "Just … think about it, Puck. We both know Kurt's a good guy. He's not like your dad, he'll stay in Lima even if you never ask him to."

"Shit," Puck breathed, knowing she was right, but not knowing what to do about it. He knew, though, that the one thing he wouldn't do was give up his kid. "Quinn," he said, his voice low and angry, stopping her at the door but not getting her to turn around. "Don't try talking me into giving my kid up to make yourself feel better about when you did it, Fabray. It won't work. And take this fucking pamphlet away. My kid almost _died_ yesterday. What the fuck makes you think you can come in here and-"

"Stop!" The surprised look of shock on Quinn's face as she turned around told Puck that she probably hadn't even thought about the reason he was in the hospital. Hands trembling, she took a deep breath, keeping her eyes with his. "Oh, God! I ... I'm sorry, Puck. Just … let me know if you need some help, okay? I think I heard something about bed rest..."

"Shit," Puck swore, watching Quinn make her escape. He'd just wanted to say something to her, to get her to lay off the righteous act and stop talking about giving away his kid, but he'd upset her instead. Who the fuck knew? Maybe she deserved to be upset. That pamphlet was still staring at him from the floor between the bed and the door and Puck didn't think he could get out of bed, not to mention bend down to pick it up and throw it out. Damn, his abs were probably ruined now, weren't they?

And when was Kurt getting back? Puck hadn't really seen him since the last weekend and anxiety about what he should tell Kurt to get him to go on with his life and get out of Lima made his fingers tingly and itchy and restless. Or maybe that was the morphine.

* * *

"Well, Noah," Puck's mom said as she came back into the hospital room while he was trying to choke down his breakfast. She had his sister, Sarah, in tow and she said, "you've really stepped in it this time. You told your friends what was going on before you told your own sister!"

"But she's, like, a midget," Puck insisted, smirking when the girl stuck her tongue out at him. "I don't even understand how this happened. How is she going to?"

"Dude," Sarah complained, "I'm not _stupid_. Mama says you have to tell me why you're in the hospital before I go to school. I said since you're in the hospital, that means I don't have to go to school either, but that didn't really work."

"Yeah, damn right it didn't work," Puck's mom sighed. "_Tell_ her, Noah. She deserves to hear this from you in person."

Frowning at his mother, Puck shrugged and relented, "Alright. So, Boo…"

"Yeah, Jerk?" Sarah said, approaching the side of his bed and leaning forward with rapt attention.

"I'm here because…" Fuck. How the hell was he going to explain this? She was _nine_, for goodness' sake. She knew hardly anything about sex or babies. Except, she had been in the house when Quinn lived there for a few months last year… "I'm in the hospital because I fell down."

"Klutz," she laughed, grinning back at their mom, who had her arms crossed in front of her looking less than amused. Worry creasing her brow, Sarah picked up on her mom's posture and looked back at Puck with a frown. "What?"

"I fell because … well because I've got a … yeah, I'm pregnant. And dudes aren't supposed to get pregnant so when I fell everything went to sh- everything _broke_," he amended his words, mostly because of the seriously pissed off way his mom was looking at him. Normally he didn't give a crap about swearing up a storm in front of her, but Puck figured he was on thin ice as it was. "But they patched me up and now me and the baby are okay."

"You're pregnant?" Sarah asked, wide eyes moving down to his lower belly. "You're gonna have a baby, like Quinn did?"

"Yeah," Puck replied, the mention of Quinn's name making him anxious all over again.

"You _girl_," she laughed, moving to punch him in the arm like she normally did, but then thinking better of it and dropping her fist. "Can I name it?"

"No, you can't name it!" Puck cried, pushing her away with a chuckle. "You'd name it something weird, like Spivey or Captain Underpants or something!"

"Those were _goldfish_, Noah," Sarah explained, having enough courage to push him back, just a little. "I'd name a kid something much better."

"Like what?"

"Like Manchurian, or Penelope, or-,"

"Oh, enough of this!" Mrs. Puckerman cried, turning Sarah around and marching her out the door, as an afterthought, she called back to Puck, "I'll be right back after I drop your sister off at school. Don't let the doctor go before I get back to talk to her, alright?"

"Okay," Puck agreed, laying back on his pillows and wondering if visitor hours at this hospital ever ended. Really, what was the point of being laid up and out of school if he had to sit around listening to people like Quinn and his mother? At least Sarah was fun – _annoying_, but fun. Disgruntled and tired before seven-thirty in the morning, Puck angrily huffed, "What?" when someone knocked on his door.

"Oh, um," someone said from near the door and the voice compelled Puck into looking up to see Kurt and his dad at the door, "we can … go, if now is a bad time. I-"

"Oh, it's you," Puck smiled, and even he was surprised by the relief in his voice. "Hi. Come in."

Kurt approached almost shyly and Puck thought it was kind of cute, if he noticed things like cuteness, which he _didn't_.

From the doorway, Burt cleared his throat and said, "I'm gonna go rustle up some coffee, give you two a few minutes. I'll be back, you know, _soon_." Then the man tipped his baseball cap a little and left.

"You look like you're doing better," Kurt said, hovering near the side of the bed like Sarah had, looking like he wanted to touch but wasn't sure if he could.

"I guess so," Puck replied. "I can't really remember what anyone said last night. You were here, right?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, playing a little bit with the edge of one of Puck's blankets. "My dad made me leave around two so we could both get some sleep."

To stop the boy's fidgeting and get Kurt to look at him, Puck grabbed Kurt's hand and said, "Thanks, man. You know, for coming here and everything. I know you're probably missing something important at school or whatever."

"Not that important," Kurt shrugged, stepping a little closer and letting Puck have his hand. It was nice, all duck-fat soft, but still big, like a guy's hand. "This was bad, Puck. You were in surgery for so long…"

"Miss me, Hummel?" Puck grinned, squeezing Kurt's hand for a quick, flirty squeeze. Hey, maybe if he played this right, he could get a little hospital-pity action. Really, it was Kurt's fault he was here in the first place… But action probably meant Kurt would get attached, and he needed to leave, to get out of Lima while he still could.

Face twisting, Kurt pulled his hand away and used it to cuff Puck lightly on the back of the head, "What were you thinking, Puck?" Kurt hit Puck again before he could catch the boy's hand and hold it tight so he wouldn't get smacked any more. "You could have died!"

"Hey, hey!" Puck grinned at how worried Kurt was over him. He couldn't help it. The untouchable and ever-indifferent Kurt Hummel was worried about him, or maybe the baby, or both. "Didn't anyone ever tell you _not_ to hit the guy in the hospital bed? Seriously, dude!"

"You knew you were supposed to be taking it easy! What were you even doing dancing yesterday?" Kurt asked, not pulling away when Puck loosened his grip and laced their fingers together. So what if it was selfish, wanting Kurt to stick around? Puck was having a kid soon. He was allowed to be selfish for awhile yet, right?

"We've got Regionals soon," Puck shrugged in explanation. "I didn't think the whole pregnant thing would be a big deal yet."

"Well," another voice broke into their conversation and Kurt tried to pull away, but Puck wouldn't let him, "it _is_ a big deal, Mr. Puckerman. Hi," the woman in the lab coat greeted them, "I'm Dr. Van der Hausen, your surgeon. Is this…?"

"Kurt," Puck introduced the boy, "the … other dad."

"Nice to meet you," the doctor said quickly, nodding to Kurt. Turning back to Puck, she asked, "Is your mother going to be back soon? I need to talk to all of you about what happens when you leave us tomorrow."

"I get to go home tomorrow?" Puck asked, turning to meet Kurt's eyes excitedly. Yeah, the hospital was not a place Puck wanted to spend too much time. The food sucked, the TV sucked, there was a needle in his arm, and there was no real privacy. How was he supposed to get his mack on with Kurt in a room with wall-to-wall windows out into the hallway? He didn't think just drawing the curtains would cut it for a classy guy like Kurt.

"If there are no more complications," the doctor responded to his question, "then yes, you'll get to go home tomorrow, provided you'll have someone to look after you for the next few days."

"I don't know," Puck sighed. "My mom works weekends and she can hardly ever get time off and-"

Kurt cut into the conversation by saying, "I'll be there. I don't have to go back to Westerville until Sunday night. I'll take care of him."

"You will?" Puck asked, smiling up at the boy. Despite the niggling feeling that having Kurt stay the weekend was just the start of making him stay for good, Puck actually wouldn't mind so much having Kurt wait on him hand and foot. The boy already felt guilty about the whole pregnancy situation, and he cooked about a million times better than Puck's mom. And he might eventually be persuaded into giving up a little something-something, if Puck played his cards right, surgical wounds be damned.

"Noah's going to need some help for the next ten days," the doctor replied. "Usually we suggest family members take shifts helping out. And even after the surgical wounds heal..." she sighed, "Dr. Wu and I agree you should be on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy.

"How strict are we talking here, doctor?" Mrs. Puckerman asked from the doorway. "Can he still go to school?" She strode into the room and Kurt tried to pull his hand away, but Puck was having none of that shit.

"I'm afraid not," the doctor sighed, nodding to Mrs. Puckerman as she joined them. "Noah's surgery went well and we were able to repair the placenta and stop the bleeding, but an ectopic pregnancy like this is always risky and life-threatening. See, the baby has rerouted a large amount of your bloodflow in order to feed itself, but without a uterus to support it, the placenta is very delicate and prone to tearing if it gets jarred. You can walk from the bed to the bathroom and back, but that's it, Noah. If you fall again, you could bleed out before we even get you to the hospital. There's a very good chance you could lose the baby as well as your own life."

"Soo..." Puck breathed, determine not to show how scared he was. It was one thing, Dr. Wu telling him he could die in that dry, sarcastic tone of his, it was another thing when this serious lady with the no-nonsense voice said it. "No school. No glee club. Got it."

When Kurt squeezed his hand, Puck looked up at the boy, who gave him a watery, but encouraging smile. It was just the thing Puck needed to avoid freaking out. Because if he started freaking out, Puck knew his mom would start freaking out too, and then everyone would be freaking out and that couldn't be good for the baby, right?

As the doctor opened her mouth to speak again, another, familiar, voice interrupted her, "Hi Puck! Hi, Mommy!" At the door stood a pair of legs beneath the biggest bouquet of flowers Puck had ever seen. The sash across the bouquet said, "Get Well, Soon, Harris!" and as she set it down on the dresser near the door, Brittany stepped out from behind the flowers wearing her ever-present Cheerios uniform. "Hi, Kurt! Hi, Puck's mom!"

"Brittany, honey," the doctor sighed, putting her hand on the girl's elbow and drawing her closer, "did you take those flowers from another patient?"

Puck and Kurt shared a look, and Puck knew he was wondering how the hell this smart doctor-lady had Brittany "Dumb-as-a-Rock" Pierce as her daughter.

"Yeah," Brittany shrugged, giving Puck a small wave that he smiled and nodded at. "But he was dead, so his family said I could take them. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Dr. Van der Hausen sighed. "But make your visit quick. You've got to get to school and I've got to finish speaking to Noah's family."

"Who's Noah?" Brittany asked. "Is he that patient with the…" she switched to a loud whisper, "…_broken_ _penis_?"

Shaking her head, the doctor threw up her hands and muttered, "I'll go check on another patient and then be back. Two minutes, Britt."

"Okay, Mommy!" the girl smiled. Turning to Puck she asked, "Are you alright? Santana said you're turning into a girl. Does it hurt? Did my mom cut your … _thing_ … off?"

"No!" Puck cried, looking up at Kurt and insisting, "No! My … thing … is fine, Brittany!"

Mrs. Puckerman laughed sharply and turned toward the windows, as if not wanting anyone to see her laughing about Puck's vehement denial. Then Kurt covered his mouth with one hand, the edges of his wide smirk peeking out on either side. Yeah, not cool.

"I'm not turning into a chick, Britt," Puck explained, with a huff, shooting a glare at Kurt. "But I am gonna have a baby. Don't worry about me, though. Kurt and my mom are going to take good care of me."

"Oh, okay," she nodded, still looking confused. "When are you coming back to school? Everyone's been all worried since you fell down." She chuckled a little, "Rachel even tried to stage a coop and take over after Mr. Schue left to follow the ambulance. It's cool, though, Santana just sat on her until she gave up."

Beside Puck, Kurt's shoulders shook in silent laughter and Puck was glad his business was no longer their source of amusement. Taking a deep breath so he could actually reply, Puck said, "I'm not coming back until next year, Britt. You can tell the rest of glee, if you want. Tell them I'm sorry I've gotta bail."

"We'll miss you," she insisted, leaning forward to kiss Puck on the cheek, smiling as she backed up. "Let me know when you want to go shopping for elastic-waist pants. I'll totally come with you."

"Thanks," Puck replied with a smile, poking Kurt in the side so he would stop laughing and wave goodbye, too. Out in the hallway, Brittany paused to hug her mother and some random old lady in a wheelchair before disappearing from view.

"I swear," Mrs. Puckerman said softly as she turned away from the window, "that girl was dropped on her head as a child."

"I like to think of her as unique," Kurt shrugged, his smile faltering as the doctor came back, Burt trailing in behind her.

"Alright, everyone," Dr. Van der Hausen sighed, closing the door behind her. "Let's talk about what the next six months are going to look like."

Puck stiffened at the scary tone in her voice, which Kurt must have noticed because he bent down and whispered in Puck's ear, "Don't worry. I'm here, Puck. You're not alone."

Frowning, Puck nodded. That was kind of the problem. Kurt was in this now and Puck didn't know if he could let Kurt give up on getting out of Lima, even if it did mean having someone besides his mother to help him get through this. It was the kid that was important, right? And Puck was keeping it, no matter what Quinn had to say about it.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter took a long time to get right, so I hope you liked it! Please leave a comment/review and tell me what you thought!_


	9. Organic  Like Hearts, Livers and Stuff?

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad everyone's liking this fic so much!_

**Ginger Tea and Apologies  
**

**Chapter 9 **

**Organic – Like Hearts and Livers and Stuff?**

"Psst, hey!" Puck whispered, trying to get Kurt's attention. The boy had been reading his History textbook for the past hour, while Puck pretended to watch TV with his mom. But Mrs. Puckerman had finally fallen asleep in her chair, and Puck had taken to watching Kurt study instead of watching the Spanish soap opera his mom selected from the three options the hospital TV presented. Kurt sat with his legs crossed and his book resting against the arm of his chair, turning the page on occasion, jotting down a few things here and there in the spiral notebook on his lap, and sighing once or twice. Okay, alright. It was pretty damn cute how Kurt got so deeply absorbed in the text. It took Puck a few tries, but finally Kurt looked up, his eyes questioning. "Hey, could you, like, arrange for me to talk to Britt's mom alone for a few minutes? I wanna ask her some stuff without my mom here."

"Stuff?" Kurt asked, and although he was trying to keep a straight face, Puck could see a gleam of humor in his eyes. "What stuff?"

Giving an explanation that meant nothing and putting a damper on that blushing thing his cheeks were tryin to do, Puck replied, "Stuff-stuff. Can you make it happen or not?"

"I don't..." Kurt said, looking past Puck to the woman sleeping in her chair next to the window. Then the boy closed his textbook and nodded. "Give me a minute to think of something."

"Alright," Puck agreed, grinning to himself at the sight of Kurt Hummel trying to be devious. The boy tapped one finger to his lips and scrunched up his eyebrows, like thinking of something wasn't going so well. Puck rolled his eyes and suggested, "Just ask for some kosher recipes or something, dude. I thought you were getting smart at that school."

"Shut it, Puckerman," Kurt shot back, though he was smiling. God, Puck was really starting to love it when Kurt smiled, especially when his eyes has that mischievous little glimmer. Something about the sight made Puck hope that their kid would have that same mischievous streak. Dude, he or she was totally gonna be the coolest badass Lima had ever seen.

Then, Kurt breathed, "I'll be right back," and strutted from the room, giving Puck a nice view on the way out. Damn, their kid better not have that ass, though. Puck would be in full protective dad mode, beating down would-be suitors left and right if it did.

It was only a minute before Kurt came back, taking his phone away from his ear and trotting over to Puck's mom. Quietly, he pointed to Puck and said, "You're asleep, Noah."

Shrugging, Puck figured it couldn't hurt to play along. Careful of his wounds, he settled back against his pillows and feigned sleep. After a moment, he could hear rustling and Kurt's high voice saying, "Mrs. Puckerman? Mrs. Puckerman?"

"Oh," Puck's mom breathed, fabric creaking against her vinyl-upholstered chair as she woke up. "Call me Ruth."

"Okay," Kurt replied, happily but softly. "Ruth, I just talked to my dad and he wants to have Friday family dinner here, with Noah, before visiting hours are over. I was wondering if I could speak to you in the hall about what we might want to eat. I'm sure you and I could come up with a menu both nutritious and kosher."

"I don't have to cook this menu, do I?" Puck's mom asked skeptically, but it sounded like she had stood and was walking across the room.

"No," Kurt insisted with a dorky little giggle. "Carole and I will take care of it. Don't you worry..."

_God_, Puck thought, clasping his hands together and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling,_ please don't let our kid have Kurt's stupid laugh_. Except, it would be pretty freaking cute.

Fuck.

He really had it bad, didn't he? It had to be the baby hormones, right? Like, making him want to be with the father of his kid so the kid would have two parents? Or was it just the way Kurt's hand fit in his, like not too big, but not too little either?

"What is it, Noah?" the doctor asked as she entered the room, grabbing his chart and flipping it open. "Your ... Kurt said you'd like to talk to me. How's the pain?"

"Alright," Puck shrugged, "as long as I don't have to move." The doctor nodded and Puck gave her a long look before asking, "Look, doc, I gotta question about this list of things I can and can't do for the next six months."

"Yes?" she asked, setting down her chart and giving Puck her full attention. Now that he knew, Puck could totally see the resemblance between her and Brittany. Like, if Britt's lights were actually on more often than not, this is what she would look like.

"You didn't say anything about, you know, _sex_."

"Oh," the doctor replied before taking in cautious breath between her teeth. "I don't know about that. Any jarring motion could cause another problem. You'd have to stay as still as possible and be very, very careful."

"Seriously, doc? But these hormones are killing me!"

"Then you have to ask yourself what's more important," she insisted, hanging the chart back at the foot of Puck's bed, "your baby and your life, or getting laid." She had this frown on her face that said he was being stupid and maybe that she was angry with him for being one of the notches on Brittany's bed post.

Cowed, Puck nodded and didn't stop Dr. Van der Hausen as she said goodbye and left.

Puck didn't really remember the last time he'd had sex, since it was the time that got him pregnant, but it was a long fucking time ago, for him. Almost three months and no play besides his own hand. But if he were really careful and with someone who knew to be careful, who gave a shit whether or not their kid survived, maybe Puck could get some sort of action. Probably not full on sex, though, if they wanted to keep their kid. Puck really, really wanted to be a dad for more than five minutes this time.

**88**

Kurt finished talking to Ruth Puckerman and wrote down all her suggestions, including the demand that he pick Sarah up from school so that Ruth could check her mother out of the nursing home for this family gathering. He was just about to head for the parking garage when Mercedes intercepted him. "Baby boy," she greeted him, pulling Kurt into a hug, "how's Puck?"

"He's okay," Kurt smiled, remembering how Puck looked pretending to sleep so they could get Ruth out of the room for whatever reason. "We're taking him home tomorrow."

"Which home?" Mercedes asked. "You know, I'm a little behind the times on this whole Puck-and-Kurt-havin'-a-baby business, so why don't you get me up to speed. Like, now."

Sighing, Kurt knew this was inevitable and he could only out run Mercedes and her never-ending line of questions for so long. He might as well get it over with. "Fine. Remember that party at Rachel's where everybody except you and Tina got drunk?"

"The weekend before Thanksgiving? Right after you went to Dalton?" the girl asked, steering him over to a couple of chairs at the side of the hallway.

"Yep."

"So, you and Puck?" Mercedes had this look in her eye, like she'd be jumping up and down with excitement if she wasn't so pissed off at him.

"Uh-huh."

"And Puck's the one who came out of this little encounter eating for two?"

"Hey!" Kurt complained. "Still not a girl…"

Mercedes put on an apologetic pout and hugged him. "I'm sorry sweetie. It's just … very unexpected. I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I…I didn't even want to tell my dad," Kurt confessed. "Finn spilled the beans for me last weekend because Dad wanted to know why I was cooking for Puck so often."

Mercedes nodded, petting Kurt's arm as she asked, "So are you two…?"

"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "I don't think so, since we barely even like each other, but he needs me to take care of him. 'Cedes, I'm gonna be a dad…"

"Yeah, it still sounds weird, even when you say it," his friend chuckled, hugging Kurt again like she was trying to cheer him up. "And hey, now that we all know what's going on, don't worry. Glee club will be all over taking care of Puck while you're in Westerville."

Kurt frowned and said, "I don't even think I should go back. With Puck on bed rest, his family's going to need a lot of help. I'd feel so bad if I wasn't here to do at least _something_."

"But, didn't your dad already pay tuition for the rest of the year? And as much as I'd love to have you home, baby, what about the reasons you left in the first place? Karofsky?"

Kurt watched Mercedes' eyes for a moment, his heart sinking as he realized how sincere and rational she was being. Puck did have friends to help him out during the school week, and the baby wasn't due until July. Maybe Kurt could see out the rest of the school year at Dalton. "What about Puck's spot in the Glee club?" Kurt asked. "How are you going to fill that if I don't come back? You guys need someone talented because you all deserve to get to New York this year. If I don't come back, all that will be my fault, too."

"Kurt," Mercedes said sharply, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him a little, "don't put the world on your shoulders. You've already got enough there. Glee club will do our best without Puck and you've got the Warblers."

"Not if I'm traveling back and forth to Lima every weekend. They're already pissed that I've been absent for two Saturdays in a row," Kurt explained, wincing at the uncomfortable, awkward conversation they'd had when Blaine broke the news that Kurt was on thin ice. "It's either come back and take care of what essentially boils down to my family, or go back to Dalton and leave Puck and our baby all alone in this. I can't do that to them. I won't."

"Okay, Kurt," Mercedes agreed, pulling him into another hug and rubbing his back, probably because he looked about ready to cry. "I think you're being really brave about all this, you know. I'm proud of you."

Kurt laughed a little, though a tear escaped his eye at the same time. "Thanks, Mercedes."

"But tell me next time something this big happens, alright? What are best friends for if not keeping each other's secrets?" Pulling back, Mercedes gave him a mischievous smile and Kurt chuckled more readily.

"Too true," he replied, readjusting one of her dangling earrings so it fell perfectly from her earlobe. "Too true."

**88**

Puck wondered if this was what everyone went through when they were going to have a kid – the number of people involved in every little detail of his life more than doubled overnight. Before getting pregnant, it was just his mom, his nana, and his sister looking out for him. More often than not, too, his mom was working one of her two jobs, his nana was too sick to leave the nursing home for longer than it took to go to temple, and his sister was involved with her own grade-school life. But now he had them, he had Kurt, and he had Kurt's whole family – Burt, Carole, and Finn – breathing down his neck about staying in bed and making sure the baby was healthy and getting his schoolwork done as best he could, even though he couldn't go to school.

And _then_ there were the glee club members who kept stopping by, from Quinn's disastrous attempt at helping, to Brittany's flowers, to Mercedes' not-so-veiled threats, to Artie showing up to teach him how to play poker before the whole Friday-night family dinner kicked off. Artie and Mercedes were still there from their afternoon visits, Brittany came back after Cheerios practice, and Rachel brought both her gay dads to pay their respects. Sam and Mike stopped by for a minute, but they didn't stay for food, and Tina stood in the corner like she had no idea why she was there, but felt some sort of obligation to stay. Puck hadn't seen Santana since his falling incident in the choir room, and he didn't really expect to. She wasn't much for showing sympathy, especially toward him for some reason.

Once the dinner started, the noise inside Puck's room barely tolerable, Kurt handed Puck a paper plate loaded with food, a plastic fork, and a big glass of milk. "I'm sorry about this," the boy said, frowning as family and friends plundered the food table. "I just couldn't turn anyone away. They all wanted to be here."

Puck shrugged. Ever since Burt found out about the baby on Sunday, Puck had been dreading this meal, but now that it was happening, he thought maybe it wasn't so bad. It was definitely better to have more witnesses so that Burt couldn't tell Puck off about de-virginizing his son. And, it was nice knowing that all these people cared enough about him to come to the hospital to see him.

"Noah?" Rachel asked from Puck's other side, holding a can of soda almost shyly. "Is it true you have to stay in bed for six months?"

"Yeah," Puck replied, sure he knew what she was worried about. "Sorry for bailing on Glee. I just can't see it through this year."

"Oh, I get it," Rachel smiled, patting Puck's arm and making a disgusted little expression when he shoved a huge forkful of some sort of casserole into his mouth. What? He was hungry! "I was going to ask what I could do to help out. Like, my dad is a computer guy and I could totally bribe him into setting you up to video-conference all your classes."

"Seriously?" Puck asked, not sure if he was grateful that someone would do that for him, or pissed that even with six-months off he'd still have to do homework.

"Yeah. I mean, that's what they did for Jimmy LaShea when he became allergic to everything after his trip to Peru. And I know you want to get out of Lima, Puck," she explained, smiling at Kurt on Puck's other side, "and you're going to need to graduate to make that happen."

Something about Rachel's speech reminded him of Quinn's visit that morning. Getting out of Lima meant giving up the kid and giving up the kid meant getting out of Lima. One had to come with the other, right?

"I'm not giving up my kid," Puck insisted, grateful for Kurt's nod of agreement. "If that's what you're after with this whole school business, don't even think about it."

"Oh, god!" Rachel shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant at all! I meant having this baby doesn't have to change everything about your life, Noah. My cousin Leon and his wife got pregnant during college and they both went on to have great careers. Plus, I'm a little psychic and I have a good feeling about this child."

"Greaaat," Kurt said slowly, eyebrows furrowed like Rachel was from the moon or something. What, didn't he believe in psychics? Hell, Puck's Nana Connie used to be able to tell you who was calling as soon as the phone rang, so he knew there was more out there than people like Kurt liked to believe.

Turning to Rachel and swallowing his current bite of food, Puck smiled and said, "Thanks, Rachel. I don't think I'll be up for school for maybe a week, but that would be cool if your dad could arrange it."

"Great!" she beamed, all those white teeth showing. "I'd also like you to know that I'm organizing a schedule of helpers to take care of you after school during the week, and otherwise when Kurt is out of town. We'll all pitch in."

Kurt smiled but shook his head and told Rachel, "I'm moving back to Lima."

"What?" Puck asked, a guilty-sick feeling settling in his stomach. Or maybe it was the lamb-cakes that tasted exactly like his mom's – gross. "Why am I just hearing about this now? What about your fancy school?"

"This," he said, holding his hand over Puck's stomach, but carefully not touching him, which Puck was grateful for. Even on wicked pain meds, the wounds hurt like a bitch. "This is more important than a silly school." Puck wanted to ask him if he was sure and tell Kurt he might be making a mistake, but then Finn broke into the conversation.

"McKinley's too dangerous, Kurt!" Finn insisted, standing awkwardly next to Rachel. "I mean, us guys could try to protect you or whatever, but who knows what could happen?"

"Maybe he could study at home with Puck?" Rachel suggested. "Video-conference in the same way? From the same computer, even?"

Kurt looked down at Puck, like asking if that was okay. Sure, it might get annoying being around Kurt all day every day, but at least someone would be there to make sure Puck didn't have to go back to the hospital after tripping on his way back from the bathroom or something. And if they had make-out sessions during study-period, no one would be the wiser. Maybe things didn't have to be the way Quinn feared they might be. Maybe they could all come out of this okay for once. Or maybe right now, Kurt was giving up his whole life for the sake of their kid. Did he even know that's what he was doing?

"We'll talk about it later," Puck insisted, turning back to his food and ignoring the hurt look on Kurt's face. If Kurt was going to do this, Puck wanted to make damn sure he knew the consequences. It was better that Kurt either leave him and the kid right now, or not at all. All the little differences between Finn's life and his told Puck that much.

"Yeah, okay," Kurt agreed, taking his hand from Puck's shoulder. "Later."

As Kurt left Puck's side, his back ramrod straight, Artie took his place, "Yo, homie," he cried, holding out a napkin. "These cookies are off the hook! Did you try one? What are they?"

"They're traditional Berry-family baby shower cookies," Rachel explained. "Vegan _and_ organic."

"If they're organic, what sort of organs are they made of?" Brittany asked, sitting at the foot of Puck's bed. "Like, hearts and livers and stuff? Puck's left-over thing?"

"Ew, no!" Rachel cried, flouncing away as Artie, Finn and Puck laughed.

"I already told you, Britt," Puck chuckled as he took a bite of one of the cookies, "I still have my dick. No one cut it off, and I'm not turning into a girl."

"Then what makes these cookies so _good_?" she asked, smiling as everyone laughed again, like she was in on the joke, and Puck thought this time maybe she was.

_**88**_

_Please leave a review/comment. I was trying to straddle the line between angst and humor here, so I would appreciate if you could tell me how I did._


	10. Homecoming

_Once again, thank you for all the kind reviews! I'm so glad many of you are enjoying this fic. _

_

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_**Chapter 10 – Homecoming**

Puck got into his mother's house with Finn and Burt's help, carefully making his way to the living room, where someone (probably Finn) had set up what looked like his old twin bed in front of the TV, instead of where his mom's armchair used to be. There was no headboard, but the bed was pressed up against the wall next to the window and the bed was sort of blocking the door into the dining room, but they never really used that room anyway. "This isn't for all six months is it?" Puck asked his mom, who had followed them in from the car. "There isn't much privacy…"

"Just until the staples come out," she assured him, taking Puck's coat from his shoulders and holding up the covers so he could let Finn help him in. "Two weeks maybe, and then the doctor said you can handle the stairs up to your room."

"Cool," Puck said, a wincing in pain as he shuffled down, trying to get comfortable, even though his feet practically hung over the end of the bed if he stretched his legs all the way out.

"Okay, well," Ruth said, leaning down to kiss Puck on the forehead, "I've got to get back to work." Turning to Kurt, she told the boy, "Call me if you need anything."

Kurt agreed and Burt made his excuses, Finn going with him because he had plans with Mike or something. And then Puck and Kurt were alone in Puck's house, Puck on his bed, still wearing his socks underneath the too-warm covers, and Kurt sitting awkwardly on the couch beside the bed.

"Can I get you anything?" Kurt asked, unwinding his scarf and shrugging off his coat, folding both neatly before hazarding to look over at Puck.

"We, uh," Puck sighed, running one hand through his Mohawk and resting the other on his belly. It was just sort of habit now. "We should talk or something."

"About me coming back to Lima?" Kurt asked, toeing off his shoes and lining them up neatly side-by-side under the TV tray beside him. "I thought you'd let me help…"

"Dude, it's not about the help," Puck said, trying to think of how he could put this so Kurt would understand. "It's cool that you wanna be around or whatever, but this having a kid thing? Just…are you in this for the long haul? Like, forever? 'Cause if you're gonna punk out a few years down the road, I'd rather my kid didn't have to go through what I did. I'd rather you just left now."

"I…" Kurt said, looking confused and maybe a little scared. "I hadn't really thought about it that far off..."

"Shit," Puck muttered, trying to struggle out of his hoodie and doing a bad job of it. His belly hurt and his arms weren't cooperating very well and now they were stuck behind him. He wasn't going to cry over a freaking sweatshirt, for god's sake! "Damn it!"

"Hey," Kurt said softly, suddenly standing right beside him with one hand on Puck's arm. Slowly, keeping his eyes with Puck's, Kurt pushed the sweatshirt all the way off one arm and let Puck get the other. Then Puck settled back against the mountain of pillows his mom must have pulled out of the linen closet for him, since they smelled like that fruity potpourri stuff she kept in there. "It's okay, Noah," Kurt insisted, sitting back on the arm of the couch, facing Puck. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, that's the fucking problem," Puck sighed. "You were out, dude. Away from here. You might want to think it over for more than a day before giving that up and moving back to Lima."

Kurt gave Puck a long, thoughtful look before insisting, "I don't need to think it over, Puck. I'm staying. Family is more important than leaving this place."

Puck couldn't help but smile a little. At least he and Kurt had one thing in common - their attitudes about family.

"Besides, Rachel was right for once," Kurt insisted. "We can have a baby and still get most of what we want out of life. It's just going to be harder. I'm up to the challenge. Are you?"

Smirking, Puck said, "Bring it." Kurt chuckled a little and they sat in a thoughtful silence for a few moments. Eventually Puck asked, "So what is it? That you want out of life?"

"Safety," Kurt replied, eyes wide like his mouth had answered for him and he was surprised by what it said. "Um… Notoriety. Not to have to worry about money. Love." After this last confession, Kurt blushed and cleared his throat before adding, "Acceptance."

"Geez, dude," Puck laughed, taking a steadying breath. "That's some deep shit. I just meant, what do you want to be when you're done with school and everything?"

"I'm not sure," Kurt replied, finally looking up at him. "About a dozen things, I guess. I want to be a star. I want to sing and act and dance. I want to make people happy. I want to run my own fashion house. I want to live in Paris and London and Madrid. I want to do it all. That doesn't mean I need to. I've always thought I'd be a good writer, for a magazine or something. I'm a very internal person."

"Uh-huh," Puck replied, that sinking feeling back in the pit of his stomach. Before Puck's dad left, he always used to yell at his mom about all the things he'd wanted to do and didn't get to do because of her and the kids.

"What do you want to do, Puck? With your life, I mean?"

"I actually _want _to be a dad," Puck confessed, watching as Kurt kept his eyes down and nodded prettily. "But, yeah, I wanna play a rock concert in a crowded amphitheater. I wanna play football for the Dallas Cowboys. I wanna walk a red carpet lookin' hot in shades and a wicked suit. But most of all, I wanna be there for my kid and raise it right."

Kurt took all of that in, nodding. "I want that, too. A family. It's been just me and my dad for so long, I think I forgot what it's like."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, knowing that he was lucky, compared to Kurt. Even if his dad had left, he still had his mom, his sister, and his nana, not to mention various uncles and aunts and other relatives that they saw once or twice a year. As far as he could tell, Kurt didn't have any of that.

Then, Kurt took a sharp breath and said, "You know, we wouldn't _have_ to stay here. If we save up enough money, while we're living here in Lima with our parents, after graduation we could move anywhere we wanted to."

"You really think we could pull that shit off?" Puck asked, knowing he and Kurt were now talking about a future where they were _together_, not just associated because of the baby they'd made.

"Yeah," Kurt insisted, leaning forward and putting his hand on Puck's mattress. "I think, in ten years' time, everyone in this cow-town will realize what talented people they let escape and we'll have a completely enchanting third-grader who will be so proud of us."

Letting his hand creep over Kurt's and lace their fingers together, Puck smiled and closed his eyes, trying to picture it, "Cool."

Puck was vaguely aware that Kurt had moved, but he didn't really notice it until he opened his eyes and the boy was _right there_, looking up at Puck through his lashes like he was trying to be coy or some shit. Crap. Coy pretty much always did it for Puckzilla.

Without a second thought, Puck let go of Kurt's hand and brought those fingers up to curl around the back of Kurt's neck, pulling the guy in slowly so he wouldn't freak out or something. Also, Puck might not have been at full strength quite so soon after major surgery. Suddenly, Kurt closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Puck's with just the tiniest whopping fuck-ton of desperation behind it.

Kurt tasted like vanilla chap stick and smelled like cedar or something. Man, if he'd smelled like this the night of the party, no wonder Puck had put the moves on him. The sticky slide of dry lips over his had Puck's heart beating overtime and his tongue flicking out to moisten things up between them. Kurt groaned in his high voice, and holy crap, Puck remembered this! He remembered kissing Kurt at that party, and he had smelled almost exactly like this, only with a touch of alcohol on his breath. And it was awesome this time, too.

Just like before, Puck didn't care that Kurt wasn't very smooth or graceful about the kiss. He was enthusiastic enough to make up for it. Puck realized he'd been picturing this moment and the moments that could arise from it so often in the past two months that he almost thought himself out of believing it was actually happening. But then, Kurt shifted his weight onto the bed, pulling something that made Puck suck in a quick breath of pain. "Ow, babe," he cried, pushing Kurt away.

"Oh!" the boy cried, bringing his hands up, like he was trying to figure out how to make it better. "Are you okay? Did I break you?"

"Chill, dude," Puck sighed, grabbing one of Kurt's arms and pulling him close again. "Just pulled a staple funny or something."

"Can … can we check to make sure you're not bleeding?"

"Tryin' to get a peek at my abs, huh?" Puck teased, poking Kurt in the ribs before pushing his blankets down and lifting his shirt up. "I gotta warn you, it looks more like a freak show than a stomach at the moment."

Carefully pulling the bandage away with cold fingertips, Kurt sighed. "I see what you mean. Still, it looks okay."

"Thank god," Puck sighed. "I've been praying since yesterday that I won't have to go back to the hospital until the kid is born."

"Hmm," Kurt replied in acknowledgement. Oh, that was right. Kurt wasn't religious. Oh, well. To each his own, right? "I'll hope for that, too. I was so scared for you the past couple of days, you don't even know. I thought for sure I'd killed you." Despite the honest, teary look on Kurt's face, Puck laughed. "What?"

"Dude," Puck cried with amusement, "if I had gone belly up, you totally would have killed me with your cock!"

"Don't be gross!" Kurt cried, hitting Puck lightly on the arm, even though he was smiling. Smiling with interest, perhaps? Smiling back, Puck caught Kurt's hand again and held it.

The way Kurt was looking at him, like he was worth looking at for more than just a quick roll in the sheets, had Puck's heart racing and made him wish he wasn't so helpless at the moment. He could barely stand up without help, so there was no way he could slam Kurt back onto the couch for a hot make-out session, like he wanted to. Puck had to hope Kurt would make the moves here, which along with the baby in his belly, totally made Puck feel like a damn chick.

Smiling gently, Kurt leaned forward and pressed a quick, tentative kiss to Puck's cheek before asking, "Are you hungry? I could make you some lunch."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, not wanting to, but letting go of Kurt's hand when the boy pulled away. "Thanks, dude. Food sounds awesome."

Watching Kurt smile and then walk away toward the kitchen, a thought occurred to Puck that made him clasp his hands together and ask, "God? Could you, like, make sure what I'm feeling for my kid's other dad isn't just baby hormones? 'Cause all this future stuff sounds really dope and I don't want to fuck it up. Oh, and I know I keep asking, but please make sure my kid's gonna be okay until it's old enough to mess up its own life. Thanks."

* * *

That first day at Puck's house was really, unbelievably nice. Kurt made lunch and then they spent a few hours playing video games until Puck got too tired to hold up his head. When he dropped off into sleep, Kurt let himself just watch the boy for a few minutes.

Kurt had been so scared after the Friday dinner that Puck didn't really want him around, and that all that clinginess at the hospital had just been about Puck being scared or something and that any warm body at his side would have been treated the same as Kurt.

But it turned out that Puck was concerned about Kurt, especially about his future. It was almost like Puck was willing to throw himself on this baby-grenade to save Kurt the trouble and Kurt didn't doubt that many guys in his position would have taken the out. However, Kurt liked to think of himself as honorable. He held his head high, and apart from giving Rachel Berry an ill-advised makeover and having ulterior motives in setting up his dad with Carole Hudson, Kurt thought he'd done a pretty good job so far of taking the high road. How could he, in any definition of good conscious, abandon his family? It didn't really matter that he and Puck didn't know each other very well, it didn't matter that Puck was really good at being a jerk and it didn't matter that Dalton was Kurt's best chance at getting the future he always dreamed about. Family was family, and that was that.

How many times had Kurt seen his dad turn down an offer to go out with his friends or to go on a fishing trip so he could spend time with Kurt instead? What about that opportunity to open another store in Toledo that Burt hadn't taken, because he didn't want to spend his Kurt-hours working? In the end, family was all you really had, and Kurt wasn't going to turn his back on that.

Even if he and Puck didn't work out as a couple, and Kurt didn't have high expectations on that front, Kurt could be in Lima for his child, not two hours down the road or in the next state or a thousand miles away.

And hey, if Figgins let him reenroll at McKinley without having to be on campus all day every day, maybe Kurt could fill Puck's place in glee club, be part of the team again, and see his close friends more than once a month. Blaine was nice and all, all the kids at Dalton were nice, but Kurt was needed here in Lima and that was that.

When Kurt went home that night, after feeding Puck a second time and making sure he had the TV remote and that his mom was going to be back soon, Burt pulled him aside and said, "Son, we need to have a talk." Kurt told his dad, and Carole (who Burt wanted to be included in the discussion) all of these thoughts.

"You're sure," Burt asked him again. "I mean, I worked pretty hard hoping to send you off to a good college one day."

"That's not an impossibility," Kurt insisted. "It's going to be difficult, but I want to be a part of this, dad. I absolutely know that Puck's going to try to raise this kid. If we can keep them both healthy, six months from now, Puck will be raising my child, and I can't let him do it alone. It's not right, dad, not when you've taught me so well how to be an awesome father."

"Oooh, he's gotcha there, Burt," Carole smiled, holding up her hands when Burt sighed in frustration.

Holding his face in his hands, Burt sighed again and said, "I suppose I'll take you to Dalton on Monday and you can pack your things while I talk to the principal or head-"

"Headmaster," Kurt supplied.

"Yeah, that guy. I'll talk to him about transferring you back to Lima and see if I can't get some of that tuition money back. Otherwise, you'll have to work to make it up to me, you got that?"

"I got it," Kurt nodded, relieved that his dad was focusing on the financial ramifications of moving back to Lima and not the educational once. "I'll work as many hours as you need me to, dad. Puck and I definitely want to save up our money."

"'Our money'?" Burt asked. "Just how serious are things between you and this kid?"

Kurt furrowed his brow and huffed in frustration at the concerned look on his dad's face. "I don't know, but we talked some today," Kurt left out the kissing parts, "and got a better idea of what the future could be like, what we might want it to look like."

"And in this future you're…"

"Together, I guess," Kurt shrugged. "Raising this baby together at least."

Carole broke into the conversation, asking, "And what if that's all Noah can give you? Just being a co-parent and not a boyfriend or partner? I love that boy to pieces, but he does have a well-earned reputation…"

Kurt knew all this, he knew it when he woke up naked next to Puck the night of the party and he knew it when he'd tried to talk to Puck that morning he'd been puking his guts out in their bathroom and he knew it every time Puck's eyes followed Dr. Van der Hausen's ass as she left the room. But he also knew the look on Puck's face and the truth in his voice when he said he wanted to raise their kid right and when Puck kissed him before Kurt left the house, softly and without an agenda.

"He's changed, a little," Kurt insisted. "He's thinking about the future and he's thinking about the baby before himself. He told me…" Kurt sighed, trying not to choke up at the intense way Burt was watching him. "Puck told me that if I wasn't sure about being a father, to stay at Dalton and go on with my life and not put our child through the heartache of leaving later, once it had gotten to know me. I think … he wants to put right all the things his father did wrong."

Burt scoffed and got up from his perch on the arm of the couch, pacing the room before he said, "Wanting something and being able to make it happen are two different things, son."

"He _can_ do it," Kurt insisted. "And I'm going to be there to help. I have to be there, dad. There's just no other option I could live with for the rest of my life."

"Even if," Burt asks, "once the kid's born and Puck's back in fighting shape, he breaks your heart?"

Nodding, Kurt agreed, "Even if that happens, at least I could say I did my best."

"Huh," Burt grunted, and Kurt thought it was probably the best assurance he was doing the right thing that his father would give for the time being.

* * *

_Quick update because I had some time to write this weekend. Could be more updates next weekend, if I can get enough work done this week. Wish me luck!_

_Also, I have a few juicy ideas where the fic is heading from here, but I would appreciate any suggestions in what you'd like to see and where you think the story should go. Thanks!_


	11. Kisses and Chimeras

_So, I worked all weekend and then I got a cold. It's also my birthday. So, I get to stay home on my birthday, without being too miserable, and write fanfiction! Overall, I'd call that a win!_

**Chapter 11 – Kisses and Chimeras**

As Kurt sat in his dorm room, packing his things and saying goodbye to the dream that had been Dalton Academy, he (just for a second) doubted his decision to move back to Lima. Puck was right, he had gotten out and the opportunity was nothing to sniff at. And yet, Kurt had faith that he would still be leaving Lima to make it big. Talentless guys like Karofsky and Azimio would be cleaning his septic tank, while Kurt and Puck worked hard to obtain successful careers and raised their child to be happy and loved.

Besides, when had Kurt ever taken, "You can't do that, homo," seriously? He could do a million things, like performing a duet with himself. Why not this? And it felt so good, taking care of Puck and their baby. Every time Puck looked up at him with that soft, grateful smile, Kurt knew he was doing the right thing.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his open door and Blaine's bright smile fading into a frown. "What are you doing?" he asked as he looked around the half-packed room like he already knew the answer. "How's your ... friend?"

"I believe the word you're looking for," Kurt replied flatly, turning back to folding his socks and underwear into a cardboard box, "is '_baby mama_.' And he's okay. On bed rest until the kid comes, but no longer at death's door."

"Well, that's good," Blaine nodded, letting himself into the room and dropping down on the bed, one upraised eyebrow directed at the box Kurt was packing.

Ignoring Blaine's questioning look, Kurt turned to him and said, "Thanks again for the ride last week. It meant a lot to me."

Giving Kurt a sort of half-smile, Blaine nodded and when Kurt looked away, he thought he heard Blaine scoff, "Not enough," but he wasn't sure. Then louder, Blaine asked, "No really - what's with all the boxes?"

Sighing as he closed the underwear box and moved to sit on his desk chair, Kurt replied, "I'm moving back home. Puck and the baby need me."

Blaine shifted to lean forward, elbows to knees, closer to Kurt as he asked, "Is that really what you want, Kurt? I mean, our plan for you to stand up to the bullies back in Lima didn't work out so well."

"It doesn't matter," Kurt shrugged. "After everything... It feels so long ago, you know? Besides, Puck and I are taking our classes online for the rest of the year. Bullies won't be an issue."

Blaine nodded in understanding, sighing as he got up and stacked the box Kurt had just finished onto a pile of similar boxes. "You sure I can't convince you to stay? Here," he said with a grin as he kneeled down on the floor before Kurt's feet, clasping his hands together, "I'll even beg. Please stay, Kurt! Please?"

Muffling a laugh at Blaine's antics with one hand on his mouth, Kurt shook his head determinedly. "Nope. I'm sorry, Bl-"

Shuffling forward, Blaine draped his clasped hands, the arms they were attached to and the top half of his torso over Kurt's lap and begged with a winsome smile, "Please? I've gotten all used to having you around, Kurt. Dalton just won't be the same without you."

"Well," Kurt laughed, clasping Blaine's hands and directing him backwards, which was difficult because Blaine's warmth radiated all the way through his dress shirt and Kurt's skinny jeans and Blaine's smile was absolutely dreamy. "You'll just have to learn to get along without me - the only gay boy in history to knock up his boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Blaine asked, his smile disappearing into an expression that looked almost like regret. "Last time we talked about it, you two were just…"

"I know," Kurt agreed, trying to keep the besotted smile off his face and failing. "He kissed me. We're planning a future together. I know it doesn't mean everything and Puck has a reputation and this whole thing might not work out the way I want it to, but I have to try, Blaine. I have to."

"Damn," Blaine breathed, still not backing off as far as Kurt would have liked, but keeping his eyes with Kurt's. "I'm too late, aren't I?"

"What?" Kurt asked, feeling supremely stupid for being so surprised. "Too late for what, Blaine?"

"Owen and I broke up two weeks ago," Blaine whispered, still so close that Kurt could feel the breath from his shaky laugh on their jumble of hands above Kurt's lap. "You didn't notice."

Realization hit Kurt hard as Blaine's brown eyes blinked and looked away, and guilt settled heavily in his stomach. "Oh," Kurt whispered, at a loss for anything further to say. Blaine was single, and Kurt hadn't noticed. Even if it wasn't painfully apparent that Blaine was begging Kurt to stay for the possibility of a relationship, Kurt felt like a crap friend for not noticing something so big happening in Blaine's life. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Blaine nodded, still not looking at Kurt as he unthreaded their hands. "You've been preoccupied. I understand."

"I feel like the worst friend ever," Kurt insisted, following as Blaine made his way to the door and realizing what Blaine probably thought he was too late for. But, Blaine didn't think of Kurt that way, did he? "I'm sorry, but you _are _too l-"

Blaine stopped Kurt with a salty finger to his lips and whispered, "Don't. Don't say it yet. Just let me...?" Blaine took his finger away and leaned in closer, and Kurt knew Blaine meant to kiss him. Kurt knew that he shouldn't; he knew that his relationship with Puck was important for the baby, but something in his head told Kurt to take this one last, little thing for himself, so he allowed the kiss.

Blaine kissed Kurt's lips gently and his skin under Kurt's nose smelled just different enough from Puck's that Kurt turned away with a sharp noise of disappointment. "I'm sorry," he told Blaine. "I can't..."

"I know," Blaine nodded, backing away from Kurt. "But I figured one last Hail Mary was my prerogative. Good Luck, Kurt."

As much as Kurt wished his friendship with Blaine would survive this, the boy's words sounded like a final goodbye. Kurt pressed his lips tougher and nodded, giving Blaine a half-hearted wave as the boy turned around once before leaving Kurt's room. When Burt got back three minutes later, Kurt was still staring at the doorway, trying to prevent his tears by remembering that he had something better than Blaine and Dalton and dorm-room kisses. He had a family.

* * *

"...everyone, see you tomorrow," Mr. Talbot, Puck's math teacher was saying as Finn closed the computer to carry it to the next class. Mr. Berry had delivered a laptop and hooked it up to Puck's living room TV so he and Kurt could both see what was going on in the classroom and be seen via the built-in web cam. It'd be kind of cool if it didn't mean Puck had to focus on school again. It was only the end of second period and already Puck was sick of class. If Kurt and the baby didn't need Puck to graduate so badly, he was sure he'd drop out. Come on, the only reason he still went to school was because he got to play sports. Oh, alright and because Puck's nana told him she wanted to see him graduate before she died. Puck's mom had definitely learned guilt-tripping from the master.

"Dude," Puck said, turning to face Kurt, who was sitting on the couch beside him, school books and papers spread out on the coffee table, "what's next?"

"English," Kurt replied, pulling a book out of his backpack and handing it over to Puck. It was some sort of novel with trees and snow on the cover and it looked dumb. "Do you need anything?"

Puck smiled. Kurt was just so thoughtful, like all the time, Puck knew he was in for a shock when he got back on his feet and had to start getting stuff for himself again.

"Nah, I'm cool," he replied. "You okay? I mean, I'm right here, available for making out, if you want."

Kurt laughed and stood up, saying, "I'm not sure you're well enough for that, Puck, but thank you for the offer." He pressed a quick kiss to Puck's lips and slipped away again before Puck could catch him and hold him there.

And then the computer came back to life as Finn opened the laptop on his end, giving Puck an up-close view of Finn's nose hairs before turning the camera around to face the whiteboard. Students piled into the classroom, some of them staring at the computer and Puck felt an overwhelming urge to smile and wave at everyone, but he didn't. Badasses _do not _smile and wave.

"What's this shit?" a voice asked and Azimio stepped into view, bending down to get a better look at the screen. Knowing he'd be on camera that day, Puck had let Kurt help him get dressed, though Puck was still in bed-ridden with a light blanket over his lap. "Puckerman? We thought you were dead, man!"

"Not yet," Puck called back, wincing when Kurt came back into the room and Azimio's eyes widened.

"What's that fairy doin' in your living room, dude?" the jock asked, waving someone else over until Karofsky and some other jock showed up, too. "You guys catch the AIDS or somethin'?" Kurt scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes, but Puck could tell he hated having to face his bullies this way, with Internet wires separating them. Puck could relate. He really wanted to punch Azimio's face in. "I knew it was only a matter of time before that glee club messed with your brain and made you a homo, man!"

"Gross!" Karofsky added, though Puck saw that little glimmer of fear for himself. The dude didn't want his friends to know how not-gross he found the thought of two guys together to be. "It's a good thing you're not here in person, Puckerman. Or I'd..."

"What?" Puck asked with a smirk in Kurt's direction. "Give into the irresistible urge to suck my cock? You wish, Karofsky."

"Dude!" Karofsky cried, pushing the other jocks out of the way. "That's not funny, Puckerman!" He pointed at the camera and mouthed, "I will end you!"

Realizing he was in no position to be pissing off guys in his condition, Puck replied, "No, you're right. I was outta line. But gimme a break here, dudes. I just had surgery, like, a week ago."

"What for?" Azimio asked skeptically as Karofsky backed away from the camera.

The third jock grinned at the camera and said, "Santana Lopez told me it was a sex-change. You turnin' into a girl, Puckerman?"

Kurt opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Puck knew he would only make it worse, so he waved the other boy off and replied, "Why are you so interested, Smith? Huh? Admit it, if I was a chick, you'd totally want to get with this!" The boy blushed and floundered, so Puck said, "Too bad, 'cause I'm all dude. Relax, guys. I had my appendix out and something went screwy. In six months I'll be fine."

"So what's Hummel doin' there?" Azimio asked, ignoring the teacher's polite request that he sit down now, please. "Rumor was he transferred to some fancy, gay prep school."

"It was too gay," Kurt replied with a straight face. "There were rainbows and sequins everywhere and my eyes couldn't take it anymore. Can we please start class now?"

Puck sniggered behind a hand and rearranged the things on his TV-tray-turned-school-desk while Azimo gaped like a fish and the others left. "Azimio!" a voice said from off camera as it turned around to face Finn again. "Sorry about that," he insisted, "I had to pee."

"Mr. Hudson, may I start the class please?" the teacher's voice came over the line as Finn nodded and turned them around again, checking to make sure they could see everything.

As Mrs. Ward started talking, Kurt got Puck's attention and mouthed, "Appendix?"

Shrugging, Puck jotted down on a stray piece of paper, "Seemed like a good cover story, babe. Don't want those guys knowing what a freak I am," and passed it over to Kurt.

Before the guy even opened the note, Mrs. Ward cleared her throat and said, "Please remember I can see you passing notes, Mr. Puckerman. If I'm going to put up with this computer-learning exercise, I expect you to take this seriously."

"Yes, ma'am," both boys replied and Kurt stashed the note under his books.

* * *

"Ready to have those staples out?" A nurse asked Puck brightly as she closed the examination room door behind the three of them.

Kurt almost laughed when Puck gave her a look that clearly said, "Duh!" but managed to hold it in. He'd been surprised at how much fun he was having hanging out with the jock practically all day every day. Of course, since rejoining the New Directions, Kurt had to leave Puck alone with his sister for a few hours after school three days a week, but it also let him pick up and drop off their assignments. Puck kept trying to convince Kurt to do his homework as well, but not even the temptation of making out was enough to get Kurt to agree. Puck had to do his own work if he was going to get anywhere in life. Besides, Puck seemed to want to make out more often than not, so there was no reason to do anything but wait until Puck couldn't take it any longer.

Of course, they hadn't been making out so much as kissing gently until Kurt inevitably jostled Puck too much and the boy's pain made them stop. It was nice, though, and more Kurt's speed to be honest. Yes, he was no longer a virgin, but that didn't mean he was ready to do much more than kiss while he was sober. And part of him wanted to take advantage of the fact that Puck couldn't push the issue of taking things farther, hoping that maybe this slow pace was leading them into a strong, stable relationship.

Kurt was in a freaking _relationship_!

Now they were at the doctor's office, missing study hall so that Puck could get the staples out of his belly. All week, Puck had been frowning at his stomach and told Kurt he hoped the scars would look badass, but Kurt could tell he wished there weren't going to be scars in the first place. Loving the way Puck looked at him and kissed him every time he did something nice, Kurt had stayed up late researching the best creams for avoiding scars. The best thing was a prescription salve, so Kurt wrote down the name and was planning on accosting Dr. Van der Hausen until she prescribed it.

After taking Puck's pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, the nurse left, and Kurt was alone with his (freaking!) boyfriend. "You good?"

"Yeah," Puck agreed casually. "Why wouldn't I be? You good, babe?"

Blushing like he did every time Puck called him that, Kurt admitted, "I'm nervous about the ultrasound. What if it's a boy? What if it's a _girl_?"

"Dude," Puck laughed, kicking Kurt's leg a little bit with his sneakered foot, "don't get your panties in a twist. It is what it is."

"It is what it is," Kurt mumbled. "Right…"

"I mean, personally I'm hoping for a boy," Puck admitted with a sly grin. "'Cause then I could teach him how to be all badass or whatever."

Kurt laughed and said, "If we have a boy, I refuse to let you give him a Mohawk."

"What if he comes out with one?" Puck countered. "That'd be too awesome to mess with."

Shaking his head, Kurt insisted, "Well, I'm hoping for a girl. She'd be so much more fun to dress and…"

Kurt trailed off as Puck's face darkened and he muttered, "I don't want a girl."

"Why not?" Kurt asked gently, taking a chance and brushing his hand down the back of Puck's Mohawk in that way that always seemed to calm him down.

Puck shrugged, but didn't answer and Kurt thought it probably had to do with Quinn's baby. Beth was a girl, so maybe Puck thought it would be too hard having another one.

Trying to lighten the mood while they waited for the doctor, who was taking forever, Kurt asked, "Do you want to bet on it? How about if it's a girl…" he said with a smirk, "you let me give you a facial."

Puck's eyes went wide and then he barked in laughter, covering his eyes with one hand as he snickered, "Kinky, dude! Not really my thing, though…"

"No!" Kurt insisted, hitting Puck lightly on the shoulder and feeling himself blush all the way down to his neck. "Not what I meant, you jerk! I meant an avocado and mud face mask not … not _that_!" He hit Puck twice more for good measure.

"Alright, alright!" Puck agreed. "I'll let you put some fruity gunk on my face. But if it's a boy – which it _is_ – you have to …" Kurt was afraid Puck was going to suggest something sexual and vaguely uncomfortable, but instead he said, "…do all my homework tonight. That's the deal."

Kurt pondered the possibility for a few seconds, but again seeing the ghastly state of Puck's pores, Kurt stuck out his hand and they shook on it.

"Alright, boys," the doctor said as she came back into the room. "Let's look at this wound and get those staples out. Sound good?"

"You have no idea," Puck groaned, and Kurt blushed again at how that tone in the boy's voice diverted his mind straight into the gutter.

The process didn't take very long and then Dr. Van der Hausen pulled a machine up to the side of the exam table, saying, "Now, before we dress the wounds again, let's have a look at the baby, okay?"

"Sure," Puck nodded. "And if you could tell us whether it's a girl or a boy, we totally have a bet riding on the answer, doc."

"Ah," she nodded with a smile before squirting some goo onto Puck's belly, which seemed to be getting a little bigger every day and looked much better without all the staples. Spreading the goo around with the ultrasound wand, Dr. Van der Hausen flicked on the machine and said, "Now, I'm not an expert in determining sex of the baby, especially this early, but I'll give it a shot."

After a few moments, Puck grabbed Kurt's hand without even looking for it, since his eyes were glued to the machine. Kurt meanwhile, almost couldn't look, preferring to watch Puck, with his stupid haircut and his perfect cheekbones, and the dimples that made themselves apparent when the doctor pointed to a fluttering motion in the black-and-white image and said, "Heartbeat looks good. The fetus is the right size for its age, too. It's a good thing you got to the hospital right away, Noah. There was probably minimal damage to the brain. Oh, and look! I'm fairly certain it's a boy!"

Kurt looked up then, ignoring Puck's cry of, "I fu-freaking told you so, Hummel!" and staring at the image. He could maybe make out the big round head when the doctor pointed it out to them, but otherwise, he couldn't tell the kid's ass from his elbow. But, if Dr. Van der Hausen said it was a boy, then it was probably a boy.

Tears sprang up into Kurt's eyes and his throat closed up a little, making it hard to take deep, calming breaths. That was _his_ baby in Puck's belly. Kurt knew it was there, he had seen Puck growing bigger over the past month, but he hadn't fully realized until this moment, that the baby wasn't just an idea, something you talked about and planned for. It – _he_ – was very real and very small, and before too long, Kurt would be one of the two people in charge of him. Kurt repressed an excited, nervous, helpless shudder at the thought.

After taking a few still shots, the doctor turned off the machine and asked, "Do you think you and your mother would consent to letting me write this up for publication? Your identity would be held privileged, of course…"

"So," Puck asked as the doctor cleaned off his belly and put a big dressing over it, securing everything with medical tape. He met Kurt's eyes briefly like he was asking for an opinion, to which Kurt shrugged, before he continued, "no one would know you were talking about me?"

"No," she replied. "It's just, I've done a lot of reading since your surgery and reproductive hermaphrodites like yourse-"

"What? I'm not some herma-whatsit!" Puck cried, looking like he was about to punch her or something. Carefully, Kurt squeezed Puck's hand and stroked the back of his head again, hoping that he would remember to stay calm for the baby's sake.

"It's just a clinical term for your condition, Noah," Dr. Van der Hausen insisted. "It just means that you've got both sets of reproductive gonads working. It's really interesting, because it means you're mostly you, but your one ovary and perhaps some of your other tissues came from a sister-embryo that fused with yours before you were born. We think – and this is why your primary physician suspected pregnancy – this happens more often in certain Jewish populations. You're what we call a chimera."

"Isn't that, like, a dragon or something?" Puck asked her, still looking a little upset, but maybe if this chimera thing was badass enough, he'd be okay with it.

"It's a mythical beast, yes," the doctor nodded, taking a sheet out of the chart and giving it to Puck. "Your case could be very important for our general scientific knowledge of human reproduction. If you decide to let me write the paper, just fill this out, have your mother sign it and send it back to me. Okay?"

"Whatever," Puck replied. "Do we get a picture of the kid, or what?"

"Of course," the doctor replied with a smiled. "I made you a DVD, too." She handed the items over and then left to let Kurt help Puck down from the exam table and out to the car.

When they were sitting in the Navigator, which was silent before Kurt started the engine, he whispered, "It's a boy, Noah."

"Told you so," Puck whispered in reply, aiming a fond smile down at the bump hidden under his coat. Kurt wondered if that smile was just for the baby, or if maybe someday Puck would look at him like that, too. Because that baby and that smile were worth a thousand maybe-relationships with guys like Blaine.

* * *

_Please, let me know what you thought of the chapter. I really appreciate everyone's feedback and input, it really keeps this story going at a time when all my other fics are more or less on hiatus. Thanks again!_


	12. Interference

_Still at home sick, so here's another chapter for you guys! Thanks so much for the reviews and comments about the previous chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 12** **– ****Interference **

Puck woke up before dawn to the sound of the front door slamming downstairs and his mother yelling, "You're ten minutes late, Finn Hudson! If I lose my job over this, so help me god…"

"I'm sorry!" the boy replied. "I had engine trouble and nobody's up this early on a Saturday so I had to push the car to the side of the road by myself. And then I ran the rest of the way. I swear, I tried!"

Ruth's reply was quieter and Puck couldn't make it out, but he knew he wasn't going to fall back to sleep anytime soon, so he got up to take a piss, smiling at the sonogram picture taped to the back of his bedroom door as he reached for the handle. The baby bump was just starting to be recognizable under his loose-fitting clothes and Puck wondered how much longer it would be before there was no way he could go out of the house in anything smaller than a parka and hope to get away with it. Dr. Van der Hausen writing up his case was one thing, because she was Brittany's mom and he trusted her to keep his identity a secret. Everyone else knowing would up the chances that someone would call the news and Puck had seen enough alien movies to know that once the press got involved, the government guys with white coats and scalpels and anal probes weren't that far behind.

Puck chuckled as he got into the bathroom across the hall. It was anal probing that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Finn was in Puck's room when he got back, jumping up from his seat in the beanbag chair to help ease Puck back into bed. "I'm alright, dude," Puck tried to say. "It hasn't hurt for like, three weeks. You don't have to treat me like a cripple."

"You say that," Finn agreed, "but if something happens to you while Kurt's working and I'm on duty? I'm pretty sure he'll get Burt to throw me outta the family again."

Laughing at the mental image of Finn out on the street, begging for scraps like a stray mutt, Puck assured his friend, "That's not gonna happen. I've been really good about taking it easy. I mean, look at this!" He pushed off his sleeve and flexed his regrettably shrunken bicep, "I'm getting puny _and_ fat, since the doctors won't let me lift anything heavier than, like, ten pounds. Having a kid blows."

Concern flashing across that open face of his, Finn sat back down on the beanbag chair and turned on the Xbox before asking, "But I thought you were excited about the little guy? Kurt keeps telling Mom and Burt how, and I quote, '_wonderful_,' you're being about this. He's falling for you, dude."

"Yeah?" Puck asked. He'd been vaguely aware that Kurt liked him well enough, since they'd been kissing on a regular basis, and he really seemed to love the kid, going so far as to design and then make little baby clothes when he got bored of watching Puck play video games. But since Puck was sequestered at home and it had been just the two of them all day every day, Puck kind of felt like he was losing his perspective on the whole thing. Like, maybe Kurt would do this for any of his friends.

"Totally," Finn nodded, throwing a second controller up to Puck and waiting for him to select his character. "And believe me, I know what Kurt looks like when he's crushing on someone."

"It's not a crush if it's real," Puck insisted with a sigh. "I really like him, too. How come you never told me your brother was so funny?"

"Dunno," Finn replied, swerving his whole body in time with the in-game car he was trying, and failing, to drive. "Maybe 'cause I don't get most of his jokes."

Since Finn had probably just called himself stupid by accident, Puck laughed and took the head shot he had lined up, felling Finn's character like it was nothing. "Ha. Suck it, dude!"

"Isn't that Kurt's job?" Finn retorted, moving his character as soon as it spawned and walking right into one of Puck's traps. "And you guys having a kid together makes us, like step-family-in-law or something. Related. Gross."

Puck grinned at Finn's shocked expression when he died again, and then replied, "I never thought of it that way, man. And besides, to be in-laws you gotta get married and the Puckster does not get married."

"Not even to the other father of his child?" Finn asked, yelping when Puck took him out for the third time in just as many minutes. "Not fair, Puck! If I had to stay inside all day, I'd totally be able to kick your ass, too!"

"Ha, ha!" Puck mocked, making his character crouch up and down over Finn's character's face. "At least being stuck inside is good for something."

A few more minutes went by before Finn said, "No, seriously, dude. Kurt's like, super-big into weddings. He's been planning them since he was two. You really think he'd be happy to live his whole life without one?"

"Dunno," Puck replied, but he wanted to punch Finn for making him feel so selfish. "It's just, we're still in high school, man. And I don't even really remember the test drive that got me knocked up. You want me to pony up and buy the car without even taking it for a good test drive?" Finn's face screwed up a little, like he was trying not to imagine how that test drive would go, while Puck had been thinking about it almost nonstop since his belly stopped hurting. "Fuck, no. That's like, setting up this whole family thing for failure right off the bat."

"Just think about it, is all," Finn insisted, throwing his controller down when he died again. "And stop killing me, dude! It's not fair!"

* * *

"Did you boys have fun?" Kurt asked when he got up to Puck's room, almost laughing at the way both boys were practically asleep, and yet somehow still playing their game. As Finn and Puck grunted in response, Kurt saw that the only places to sit down were the bed, next to Puck, and the beanbag chair in the corner. Whenever he was up here, Kurt usually sat in the desk chair, but Finn had his feet up on it, his back on the floor, and his neck craned around to see the small television in the corner.

Kurt chose to sit on the bed, ignoring Puck's half-asleep leer.

After a few minutes of watching them play (even Kurt could tell that they must have been playing too long, because things were going very badly), Kurt spoke up, saying, "You'll never guess who's oil I changed today." After waiting for a response and not getting it, Kurt continued, "Mr. Ryerson, the old drama teacher." Still nothing. "I think he might have been flirting with me." _Nada_. "He offered me a place in his doll collection where he would feed me only marzipan and let me have a chimp as my best friend."

"Cool," Puck muttered absently, eyes still on the screen.

With a scoff of disgust, Kurt cried, "Alright! That's enough of this," and turned off the Xbox, plunging the room into darkness. Amid the whines and half-hearted attempts to hit him, Kurt made his way to the light switch and flicked it on, saying, "Finn, you should go home. Puck, you should stop melting our baby's brain."

"But Kurt," the boy sighed, finally sitting up and rubbing his Mohawk like it might help him think, "His badass training has to come from somewhere. And what else am I gonna do?"

Before Kurt could respond, Finn grabbed his arm, looked at the limited-edition designer watch that he was considering selling and said, "Shit, is that the time? I gotta go!"

"Big date with Rachel?" Puck asked, but Kurt's brother was already gone.

Answering for Finn, Kurt sat down on the bed again and said, "Yeah. I don't know why the hell those two are still together, but I guess sometimes it works."

"Sure," Puck insisted, laying down so he was facing Kurt and pulling on Kurt's scarf until he relented, kicked off his shoes, and stretched out beside the boy. "Did Ryerson really flirt with you? And what is marzipan, anyway?"

"No," Kurt insisted with a giggle. "I made all that up, except for the part where I changed the oil on his bright-pink convertible. It looked like an ad for pepto bismol or something."

"So I don't gotta worry about that creeper stealing you away when I get really fat?" Puck asked, his eyelids droopy and his voice soft as he pulled Kurt close for a long kiss.

When their lips parted, Kurt insisted, "Never," which seemed to make Puck stiffen a little, but then he went back to kissing Kurt and it felt like everything was okay again. And then, Puck introduced his tongue with a little groan, and Kurt felt like everything was better than okay. Much, much better.

"Oh, and marzipan is a dessert. Like this sugar and almond paste. It's not that great really, but if you want I could-"

"I'm good, babe," Puck insisted, one hand curling around the back of Kurt's neck, changing their angle slightly and brushing Kurt's pulse-point with his rough thumb. Kurt gasped into the kiss a little and Puck pulled him closer, so they were flush chest to chest, Puck's baby bump pressing lightly against Kurt's belly.

"Maybe we shouldn't," Kurt tried to say, but Puck's hands were doing wonderful things, raking down Kurt's sides and ghosting over the back pockets of his jeans before finding their way inside those pockets and giving a squeeze. "Puck…"

"C'mon, Kurt," Puck whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "It's been so long. Just a little over-the-clothes action? I promise, baby won't feel a thing."

Kurt had half a mind to stop things where they were because Dr. Van der Hausen had pulled Kurt aside just before Noah's release from the hospital and told him no sex until after the baby was born. But then the other half of his brain said that this felt way too good to stop now that Puck was grinding gently against his thigh and kissing down his neck.

"Go slow," Kurt warned, making Puck meet his eyes for just a moment until he nodded sincerely.

"Slow. You got it, babe," Puck agreed, one hand drifting down toward the front of Kurt's skinny jeans. And then HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD! Why hadn't they thought of this over-the-clothes thing before?

* * *

When the doorbell rang, Kurt was in the kitchen, making an afternoon snack, so Puck hauled himself up off the living room couch to get the door. Dr. Wu said he was doing much better, so he could take little trips around the house as long as he was careful not to fall and spent most of his time lying down. The dude still wouldn't let him lift anything heavy enough to keep his guns loaded. Or let him have sex (he didn't know about the at-last-count five heavy petting sessions). Fucking fascist.

"Hey, Schue," he said as he opened the door. "Thanks for coming, man."

"Never thought I'd see the day Noah Puckerman would thank me for giving him a test, not to mention three!" Schuester joked, following Puck into the house and closing the door behind him. "Aren't you supposed to be lying down?"

Puck shrugged, but led the way into the living room to take his usual seat on the couch, lowering himself carefully with his arms. "I heard the playoff game went well," he mentioned. "Did you go?"

"Yeah," Schue nodded, standing awkwardly until finally taking a seat in one of the dining room chairs Sarah had dragged in to sit on when Puck took over the couch. "Finn was really good and Mike stepped up this year and turned his dancing skills into a great offensive strategy. Shannon - Uh, Coach Beiste, says the team really misses you. She wanted to know if you'd be back in time for baseball."

"Season'll be over before I'm recovered," Puck sighed, watching as Kurt came into the room, eyes on his tray and not much else.

"Noah, honey," Kurt said with a frown, "did you want something to drink with this? Oh," he stopped short and met the teacher's eyes. "Hi, Mr. Schue. You're early. I mean, thanks for coming."

Blushing, Kurt set the tray on Puck's lap and whipped off the frilly apron that belonged to Ruth, throwing it back toward the kitchen before sitting down next to Puck.

"You're welcome, Kurt," Mr. Schue said sincerely. "Plus, I'm pretty sure your dad bullied the school district into paying me overtime for these little visits, so it's win-win."

Pretty soon Puck was settled on the couch with his tests and his lap desk, while Kurt was all the way over at the dining room table, to make sure they weren't cheating off each other. Like Puck would need the help. He hadn't done anything for over a month except do homework and play one of the three total video games he owned and when things got really bad, he even read the fashion magazines Kurt left all over the place. Puck figured he was an autumn, but there was no way he would reveal the fact that he'd actually considered the question, even under pain of death.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt!" Mercedes said, pulling him into a quick hug as he joined his friends at the piano in the choir room. "How's Puck?"

"About to climb the walls, I think," Kurt sighed. "It's only been, like six weeks, and he's ready to start going _Disturbia _on me. I swear to god, I found a pair of binoculars under his bed."

"Maybe today's glee session will cheer him up," she offered, taking the laptop out of her schoolbag and opening it. She and Finn had been taking turns bringing it to class with them and frankly, Kurt preferred Mercedes' weeks. She never forgot to bring the power cable to class and she always remembered not to hold embarrassing personal conversations in front of it. Kurt now knew way too much about his step-brother's athlete's foot.

"Maybe," Kurt nodded, a streak of fear flooding through him when he saw Karofsky and Azimio out in the hallway.

Mercedes must have seen Kurt's change in demeanor, because she snapped her fingers and said, "Sam, baby? Could you and the boys help me out with a little ... situation?"

Sam peered through his ridiculous bangs to where his girlfriend was pointing and nodded, kissing Mercedes' cheek. "Sure thing, pumpkin!" he cried before rounding up Mike, Artie, and Lauren and following her into the hallway. It had been quite the stir when Quinn and Sam broke up, but honestly Kurt was relieved. Quinn really did seem to need that time to herself. Plus, there _was _such a thing as too much blonde in a relationship and it cleared the way for Mercedes to get a boyfriend. Kurt loved seeing his bestie so happy.

Sighing, Kurt opened the laptop and started up the chat program, calling out, "Noah?" when he didn't see the boy on the couch right away. What if something had happened? "Are you there? Where's Sarah? If somebody doesn't talk to me right now, I'm calling an ambu-"

"Dude, chill!" Puck's little sister insisted, sitting down right in front of the camera. "Noah's in the bathroom. I told you I'd call if something happened. And nothing ever happens, Kurt!"

"I'm sorry, Boo," he replied, using Noah's nickname for the little girl. "I just worry too much."

"Fuck yeah, you do!"

"Sarah!" Kurt gasped, covering the laptop speaker when both Mr. Schue and Brad, the piano guy gave him dirty looks. "Those are not the kinds of words a young lady uses!"

"Quit being such a prude, Hummel," Sarah smirked, an oddly accurate imitation of her older brother. "Besides, today I'm not a lady, I'm a raptor! Wanna hear all the different roars I can do? I'm really good!"

"Maybe tomorrow," Kurt insisted. "For now, could you please go check on your brother for me?"

"Only if you promise to braid my hair in the morning. Can you do that? Please?"

Kurt didn't relish the thought of getting up early enough to get over to the Puckerman house in time to finish getting Sarah ready for school, but he agreed anyway.

Just after she ran off, Puck came back into the picture, saying, "Babe, you left your phone here." He held up the black device as proof and Kurt struggled to keep himself from blanching. Not only were there texts and emails on there in which Blaine apologized for his actions the day Kurt left Dalton, but there was also a diary of sorts. Maybe he shouldn't worry, right? There was no way Puck could guess his passcode...

"Um, crap," Kurt breathed, looking back at the rest of the glee club and immensely relieved that no one seemed to be paying attention. "I'll stop by after practice to get it back from you."

"You got any games on here? As awesome as it is watching you guys perform without me, it gets a little old..." Puck frowned down at the phone, jabbing the screen a few times until he said, "Ah, ha! Your passcode is your freaking birthday? Man, that's so dumb." Puck laughed, poking through the contents of what amounted to Kurt's entire life and all Kurt could do was watch with mounting horror.

"How do you know my birthday?" Kurt asked, not sure whether to be furious or impressed.

"Dude, it's like a week after mine. It's always been a week after mine. Chill. I just wanna play something good."

"Fine," Kurt huffed, not at all mollified by Puck's half-hearted assurance. What would happen if he found out about that kiss Blaine gave Kurt? What if he read about all Kurt's big plans that he'd made before the baby and all the doubts he'd had after the baby? What if he found out Kurt was a little bit in love with him? Would that freak Puck out? Sure, they were having a kid together and Puck wanted Kurt around but love was a different matter.

The entire glee club practice, the entire escorted walk out to his car and the entire drive back to Puck's house, Kurt felt about ready to puke with nerves. What would happen if Puck did read through his things? Would they break up? Would Puck take their son away from him? He couldn't do that, could he?

When he rushed back into Puck's house, he found the boy in his bedroom, propped up against he headboard as per usual. His fingers flew across the touchscreen of Kurt's phone and he cackled, "Die, aliens! Die!"

Kurt cleared his throat as he approached, sitting down carefully near the end of the bed. "Um, Puck?"

"Yeah, Babe?" Puck replied casually, his normal tone of voice when Kurt interrupted any video game.

"Could I have my phone back? I have to get home soon."

"Yeah, sure," Puck agreed, tossing it over. "Sarah says you're coming over early tomorrow?"

Kurt had never felt so relieved in his life. Puck was acting normal, which meant all he's done on Kurt's phone was play a stupid game. "Yep," he replied with a smile, leaning over to give Puck a light kiss on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, sweetie."

* * *

Puck managed to hold the tears in until Kurt was out the door and his Navigator pulled out of the driveway. Puck was not a crier. Since he was five years old, the only times Puck would cry were when he wanted something, like super-cheap pot.

It was being pregnant that made Puck cry over this. It had to be. As much as Puck wanted to be a dad, he really didn't want to be pregnant anymore. It was getting really noticeable and soon, Kurt wasn't going to want him anymore. All Puck had some days were his looks, and if those were gone, what was going to stop Kurt from seeing someone else? Someone like Blaine, who apparently didn't take, "We're having a baby together," seriously and fucking kissed Kurt right after Puck got out of the hospital.

Swallowing his tears and selecting the contact he'd copied over from Kurt's phone, Puck called that fucktard Blaine.

"Hello?" the dude answered after a few rings. "Who is this, please?"

"It's Puck, numb-nuts," he replied, making sure to keep his voice low and threatening. "Stay away from him."

"Who, Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice a little snippy, but still so damn cool. "I really don't think that's your place t-"

"I don't think it's your place to move in on my family, douche-bag," Puck growled. "Just back off. Tell Kurt you don't want to hang out this weekend or any other weekend. Or else."

"Look, I'm not trying to break up your family, but you can't keep Kurt from having friends," Blaine insisted. "You know how upset he would be if he found out you called me like this…" Puck knew he was right, damn it. Kurt hated anyone else making his decisions for him. Why else had he come back to Lima despite Puck and his dad and everyone else telling him he could take the out? Well Kurt was in this now, and Puck wasn't going to let him go so easily.

"Friends are one thing. Poachers are another. This isn't just some stupid high school fling, man. If there weren't a kid involved, I'd say more power to ya, because I know I'd win. But come on," Puck plead, hating the way he'd gone from badass to reasonable in ten-point-five seconds, "Don't think I don't see your lame apologies and offers of friendship for what they really are. Kurt's always saying what a good dude you are. Prove it. Back off. "

Blaine was silent for just a moment before scoffing and saying, "I swear. I just want to be his friend. I won't _poach_ Kurt. You're being paranoid."

Puck growled at that, wishing the kid would stop kicking him in the freaking kidney and that he could back up his threats with real violence. "Whatever," Puck said, hanging up and hoping Blaine was right and he was just being paranoid.

Puck's son deserved both his parents, and if Kurt's awesomeness in taking care of Puck these last six weeks were any sort of sign, Kurt was going to be a fucking great dad. Puck's son deserved a fucking great dad who would be there and not be distracted by the first Warbler who showed up interested. Puck just needed a little more time to get Kurt really hooked, and completely in love with him, maybe even proposed to, so even if guys like Blaine did come around, Kurt wouldn't even bat an eyelash at that shit, no matter how fat Puck got.

* * *

_Please, let me know what you thought of the chapter. I really appreciate everyone's feedback and input, it really keeps this story going at a time when all my other fics are more or less on hiatus. Thanks again!_


	13. Karmic Justice

_Thanks for all the well wishes and the reviews. I'm feeling a lot better, and have another chapter for you guys!_

**Chapter 13 – Karmic Justice**

"Hey there, Puckerman," Coach Beiste waved at the webcam, while Puck held the computer on his lap and tried not to roll his eyes. "How ya doin', buddy?"

"Alright," Puck shrugged, watching as Kurt packed up some of his things and took them to the kitchen so he could finish his history paper before study hall was over. "What'd you wanna talk about, Coach?"

"Just wanted to see how you were doin'," she insisted. "We've got the big Championship game on Saturday, and we'll miss you, Puckerman. Any chance you could come out for the game?"

"Dude – _Ma'am_ – I wanna be there," Puck insisted. If there was one thing he actually liked about high school it was the sports and feeling like part of a team (and okay, Glee club counted, too). "But I can't." That many people, with emotions running high, and the excitement of a game whipping everyone into a frenzy? Puck was sure to get knocked into or something and seeing his boys in the Championship game just wasn't worth his son's life. "I'm like, real sorry."

"That's okay, kid," Beiste shrugged. "You just work on feeling better and, hey? Feel free to try out again for football in the fall. Senior year usually means more glory on the field!"

"Yeah," Puck smiled. He had to admit, he liked Beiste way more than Tanaka. "Thanks, Coach. I'll be there."

The connection ended when Beiste closed the computer on her end and Puck was alone with his thoughts, again. He should pick up his math homework and get that done, but Puck hated trying to muddle his way through new problems day after day when he'd just gotten the hang of figuring out the problems from the day before. Instead, he just wanted to sulk.

He couldn't play sports and he couldn't even watch the Championship game live, since his mom had given up the cable to pay for his medical bills and Kurt wouldn't even let him go over to the Hummel house to watch it there. He insisted that bringing it over on DVD the next day was good enough. Ugh! Puck knew Kurt was just looking out for his wellbeing and the wellbeing of their kid, but sometimes it felt like he was keeping Puck a prisoner. While dudes like Blaine could go wherever the hell they wanted and watch whatever games they wanted.

"Just four more months," Puck insisted to himself. "Four more months…"

"What's that?" Kurt asked from the doorway, bringing Puck one of those awesome smoothies he made, without even being asked. At least Puck's jailer was thoughtful and easy on the eyes.

"Four more months of this," Puck sighed, taking the drink gratefully. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until there was food in front of him. "Just four more months, right?"

"And eighteen more years after that of having a child," Kurt pointed out, crawling onto the couch next to him, his cold feet intertwined with Puck's warm ones. "But yes, only four more months of keeping you under house arrest."

"Gives a whole new meaning to March Madness," Puck chuckled, watching Kurt's eyes follow his tongue when he licked the smoothie away from the corners of his mouth. Interesting.

"What?"

"Basketball?" Puck said, taking another swig of smoothie and watching as Kurt followed Puck's tongue again before shaking himself out of his apparent daze.

"Oh, _sports_. I'm much more versed in the madness of Fashion Week, which of course, happens twice a year, in each of the four major fashion-centric cities. Eventually, I have to make it to New York to see the show. Of course, only industry professionals get in, but that shouldn't be a problem…"

Puck could care less about fashion – because really, as long as his clothes made him look hot, Puck didn't really want to know who made them or why – but he felt the urge to make this one dream of Kurt's happen. At least it was something to hold onto when Puck felt almost insane with the urge to go anywhere but another room of his damn house. If he could make it to the end and keep this baby safe, Puck could do anything. Get Kurt to Fashion Week? No sweat. Graduate high school? Piece of cake. Tell Kurt that he read all the texts Kurt and Blaine had ever sent to each other and then threatened Blaine with bodily harm? Yeah, that wasn't gonna happen. Tell Kurt he actually liked having the dude around and was maybe falling for him? Shit, what kind of badass does that?

Besides, wasn't it kinda obvious?

Just in case it wasn't, Puck grabbed one of Kurt's feet and tickled it, laughing when the boy shrieked and fell on the floor, unable to exact revenge because, hey, Puck was pregnant here. Fragile merchandise, buddy.

Kurt grinned and righted himself, haughtily sitting in the armchair instead of back on the sofa and turning to his homework until their next class started.

* * *

"I'm sorry you can't go to the game," Kurt whispered, his face just a few inches away from Puck's on the mattress. They'd been curled up together since school let out, talking and making out and generally killing time until Ruth got back from taking Sarah to some dance recital that Puck couldn't go to either. "What about Regionals? Do you really think it's wise?"

"I've barely been out of the house for two months, babe," Puck replied, fitting his face against the crook of Kurt's neck and placing a few light kisses that made Kurt never, ever want to leave this bed. "I gotta go to Regionals, or I'm gonna lose my fucking mind. Besides, it's show choir. How dangerous could it be?"

"Oh," Kurt chuckled, "if you knew anything about the Spiderman musical they've been trying to put on for the past year, you'd change your tune, Noah."

"Wait," Puck said, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down at Kurt, "they made a musical about _Spiderman_? Way to ruin my childhood…"

Kurt laughed at Puck's apparent disgust, reaching up to kiss him again, for the distraction. "What should we put you in to disguise the baby?" Kurt asked when they parted, running a hand over Puck's belly. It gave him a little thrill every time Puck allowed him to do it, since he felt so outside the whole creation process most of the time.

"Ugh," Puck groaned, collapsing back onto his pillows. "I knew I was getting big, but you think we need a fucking strategy to hide the little guy? I must look like a freak…"

"No," Kurt insisted, sitting up and gently pushing Puck's shirt up and off. They'd hardly ever taken things this far, but Kurt knew this was about much more than sex. This was about the deep feelings he was cultivating for the other boy. This was about the miracle they made together. This was about being a family. "You look amazing, Noah. Trust me," he insisted at the disbelieving twist of his boyfriend's mouth, "you do." Kurt ran one hand up and down the middle of Puck's torso, over the baby bump and everything, feeling goose bumps rise up in the wake of his touch. Amazed that he had even that much of an effect on someone else's body, Kurt drew a sharp breath and smiled when Puck pulled him down for another kiss.

* * *

"_Hey, Kurt!" _Blaine's text read, "_You free this weekend?_"

Kurt rolled his eyes and stowed his phone back in his bag, starting the Navigator's engine and grimacing when he saw the gas was low. Damn. He'd have to stop on the way, which meant he would be late, which meant Puck would pout for a good hour for having to wait five extra minutes for dinner. Tonight, it was organic potato and lamb soup, kosher thank you very much, Mrs. Puckerman. Kurt wondered what his "other" family – his dad, Carole, and Finn – were having for dinner. Catering to Puck's moods didn't even leave Kurt enough time to see much of his family, much less see friends like Blaine, who insisted he had no lingering ulterior motives, but lived almost two hours away and seriously wasn't worth it.

After struggling with the gas pump (seriously, did you have to be the freaking Hulk to get these things to work properly?) and cringing at how quickly the dollars added up, Kurt jumped when his phone rang, answering it snappishly, "What?"

"Kuu-urt," Puck's voice drawled, that same almost pleading tone he got whenever he wanted something. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"Ugh, what?" Kurt asked, trying not to clench his teeth too hard, because that's how frown wrinkles got cemented into place. "I'm seriously not in the mood, Noah. Karofsky and Azimio managed to slushie the _entire_ glee club while we were doing _dress rehearsal_, so all of the costumes have to be cleaned, and probably re-cleaned, Finn and Rachel are being seriously destructive lately, and I had to stop for gas. Unless this favor is life-or-death, you're just gonna have to suck it up."

"Freak out much, Hummel?" Puck asked, just the tiniest bit of responding edge to his voice. "Geez, I just wanted you to check the mailbox before my sister gets home from karate. I ordered her birthday present and it's supposed to come today, but if you're that pissed off, I'll go do it myself."

"No!" Kurt cried, wincing when the other patrons of the gas station all turned to look at him. "I mean, no. I'll do it."

"'Cause you don't have to."

"It's fine."

"The mailbox is just across the street," Puck insisted and Kurt could have sworn he heard the snick of a door opening. "It's not even that cold out. I could just go over there and get it."

"Noah Puckerman, don't you dare step one foot out that door!" Kurt cried, grabbing his receipt and hopping up into the Navigator, starting the engine before he even had his seat belt on. "Or, I swear to god I will tell everyone you're not well enough to go to Regionals."

"But-"

"Don't test me," Kurt insisted. "We've made it this far, Puckerman. If you do anything to endanger your life or the life of our unborn child, I _will _handcuff you to that freaking bed!"

"Dude!" Puck laughed, just as Kurt realized his window was down and a woman walking her dog past the gas station was staring at him open mouthed.

"Oh, my god," Kurt breathed, checking twice to make sure it was safe before pulling out onto the street. "Just, go sit down, okay, sweetie?"

"Exactly how much are you blushing right now?" Puck asked, still laughing.

"Not that much!" Kurt insisted, earning another peal of laughter from the other end of the connection. Unable to keep himself from smiling along fondly, Kurt cried, "Shut up!"

* * *

"Noah, baby," Puck's mom called up the stairs after dinner one evening. "You have company. I'm sending them up so make sure you're decent."

"Them?" Puck called back, brushing the crumbs from the front of his shirt. Maybe it was Kurt _and_ Finn coming for a visit? They were really the only people who came over, besides Schue on test days, but usually any of those three called first.

After a sharp rap on the door, Brittany's voice called, "It's us, Puck! Let us in!"

Oh, glee club people. It was probably Rachel and maybe Mercedes, too. It wasn't so unheard of that one of them take over babysitting him when Kurt was working and Finn couldn't do it (yes, Puck was sad enough that he needed a freaking sitter, even if it was just his nine-year-old sister). Brushing one hand over his face to check the stubble and sniffing one armpit, Puck figured he was acceptable enough to have some female company. Kurt rarely let him go more than a day without showering, saying he wasn't a caveman, so he didn't have to act like one. If he wasn't a badass, Puck might find Kurt's bossiness more cute than annoying. At least the bossiness was balanced out by all the making out and the way Kurt looked at him like he was still the hottest dude on the planet.

"Yeah, come in," Puck called, hoping he didn't look too bad sitting there under his blanket and quickly throwing one of Kurt's magazines under the bed. What? It was better than reading the bag of chips next to his bed!

Brittany pushed open the door, Quinn close on her heels and a reluctant-looking Santana brought up the rear, smirking when she saw him. "Looking good, Puckerman," she chuckled. "Very badass."

Before he could growl at her, Quinn jumped in, saying, "It's nice to see you, Puck. How are you and the baby feeling?"

"Bored," he replied. It was the answer to everything these days, except for the few hours every week Puck could convince Kurt out of his pants. "What brings you fine ladies by to see El Puckarone?"

Brittany stepped closer and put a hand on his bulging stomach before looking up at him and saying, "Oh, wow! It's just like Quinn's last year!"

"Karmic Justice," Santana replied, flopping down on Puck's bed and stretching out there like she was still welcome or some shit.

"No really," Puck cried, wondering if now that he was pregnant, it allowed him to get away with things like shoving Santana off his bed. "What are you guys doing here?"

"You'll never guess," Quinn replied, taking the desk chair and scooting it close to the foot of the bed, "who tried out for the Cheerios last week. Like she thought she could just waltz onto the team right before the Championship game and win him back!"

"Who?" Puck asked, smiling when Brittany put her ear down on his stomach. If anyone else beside her and Kurt (and okay, Sarah) would have tried that, they'd be looking at the business end of his fist in their face, but the way Brittany listened so intently made it okay.

"Rachel!" Santana cried gleefully, laughing along with Quinn and Brittany. "And when she didn't make the team…!"

"What happened?"

Quinn answered this time, slapping the foot of Puck's bed, "She got her dad's lawyer to sue Coach Sylvester for crimes against humanity. She needs a good PR move, and you're it, Puck."

Completely confused now, Puck pushed Brittany away from his stomach and sat up a little straighter. "Huh?"

"Everyone thinks you're dying," Brittany explained, looking to Quinn for help.

The other blonde shrugged one shoulder and told him, "Ever since you and Kurt started the home-learning thing, rumor has run rampant and while only the Glee club knows the truth, the general consensus is that you've got an inoperable tumor and Kurt is studying to be a male nurse and that's why he's taking care of you. Coach Sylvester is starting a charity to raise the funds to send you to Moscow for a radical former-Soviet procedure. She thinks it'll give her the positive press she needs to fight this lawsuit."

"So, what do you need from me?" Puck asked, thinking as long as the cheerleading coach didn't actually send him to Moscow, some extra cash to pay for all his medical bills wouldn't be so bad.

"Just a few pictures of you looking pathetic," Santana insisted, "and us Cheerios looking very charitable beside you."

"Don't hurt yourself trying," Puck said dryly. "And don't give her any pictures where you can see it's a baby. It's gonna be difficult enough figuring out how to get to Regionals without giving this whole pregnancy thing away. If Sue Sylvester finds out … let's just say, don't let her find out, okay?"

"You got it, Puck," Quinn smiled, pulling a camera out of her Cheerios jacket. "Okay, you two get on either side of him and try not to look so slutty about it."

Puck smirked as Santana kneeled beside him, one hand on Puck's shoulder and her eyes almost kind as she looked at him. Like Santana Lopez could actually ever pull off kindness… At least Brittany, who had her arm around Puck's shoulders and her cheek pressed tightly to his, looked the part.

The girls switched places a few times and even managed to get Sarah to take one of all four of them before they were done. "Thanks, Puck," Quinn insisted as Santana and Brittany left before her. "You didn't have to do this."

"Hey, if you can arrange some sort of kickback from this whole charity business, that's all I'm askin' for," he grinned. "I got another mouth to feed pretty soon."

"Kurt told us that it's a boy," Quinn nodded shyly, stashing the camera back in her jacket pocket and throwing the jacket around her shoulders. "And that you two are keeping him. I have to admit," she added, "Kurt's been looking really happy these days."

"Yeah?" Puck asked. "He's not complaining about me too much?"

"Not to me," Quinn insisted. "And he's referred to you several times as his boyfriend. Is that true?"

"More or less," Puck shrugged. "I mean, it's not like I'm gonna be sleeping with anyone else when I'm like this," he pulled the covers away to show just how big his belly was below his t-shirt. "And besides, I really kinda like the freak."

Quinn chuckled a little, the sound very musical, and then asked, "How far along are you?"

"Um," Puck hummed, thinking over the dates in his head, "Like, twenty-three weeks? Something like that. Two more months before Junior could maybe live on his own, but more like four before this is all done and over with."

"You're not actually naming him Junior, are you?" Quinn asked, her face scrunched up like she did and she didn't want to know the truth.

"Duh," Puck said, "of course not! We haven't picked anything out yet. Kurt's got some ideas, but I keep telling him we gotta see the boy's face before we decide on a name. I mean, how do you know what his name should be before you see him?"

"You named Beth before we saw her," Quinn pointed out, looking up at the ceiling like she was trying not to cry.

Sighing, Puck insisted, "Yeah, but I made a lucky guess and I didn't think it would stick."

"So, Junior it is," she laughed. "For now."

Smirking, "Yep," Puck watched as Quinn left, all three Cheerios loading into Brittany's car before they took off. Quinn hadn't said anything about her earlier foot-in-mouth incident, but Puck didn't really expect her to. She was more of a, "If we don't talk about it, it didn't happen," sort of girl. Always had been.

* * *

When Kurt knocked on Puck's bedroom open door, the boy looked up, a smile replacing the surprise on his face. "What'cha doin' here, babe? I thought you were going to the Championship game. Support Hudson and all that rah-rah crap."

"I begged off," Kurt shrugged as he let himself into the room and sat down on the bed, uninvited. If anyone would have told him five months ago that he'd have what amounted to an open invitation to Noah Puckerman's room, he would have told him to get his head checked. But now? Puck tugged Kurt closer and kissed him, lacing their fingers together in the way that said more than the jerk would ever admit out loud, Kurt was sure. "I also got your mom and sister to go to a movie, my treat."

"Hummel?" Puck asked with a grin, laying back against his pillows and putting down the book he'd been reading (one of the graphic novels Kurt had picked up for him from the library the day before). "Are you trying to get me alone?"

"Maybe," Kurt laughed, turning over and propping himself up on his elbows so he could watch Puck's face. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Hell no," Puck laughed, before wincing and taking a sharp breath.

"What's the matter?" Kurt demanded, his heart beating overtime as he remembered that painful wait for Puck to come out of surgery, stuck between his father and Blaine, fueled only by adrenaline and horrid hospital coffee.

"He just kicked me," Puck chuckled, one hand pressing on his belly. "That's so awesome!"

"Yeah," Kurt replied in wonder, watching the soft, benign expression settle over Puck's features.

"Babe," Puck insisted, grabbing Kurt's hand and pressing it to the bump, "you gotta feel this! Fuck, he's got the Hummel kicking legs, that's for sure!"

"I don't feel it," Kurt admitted, his stomach dropping. Puck moved Kurt's hand and after another sharp breath looked up expectantly, the edges of his lips turned up until Kurt ruefully shook his head. "I don't-"

"Hey," Puck whispered gently, refusing to let Kurt go when he tried to pull away. "Kurt. It's okay. We still love you. Here," Puck reached for the stack of books on his bedside table, but Kurt was stuck on a certain word.

"L-love?"

"What?" Puck asked absently, paging through one of his books. "See? This one says he's not big enough for you to feel him, even if I do. So, there. Just give it some time, babe." Puck looked up then and when he saw Kurt's face, he asked, "What?" with a little bob of his head.

"You said..." Kurt trailed off. He almost didn't want to ruin it. What if he repeated Puck's words back to him and the guy corrected himself? But what if "love" was what he meant to say? What if Puck meant it casually, as in friends-with-benefits love? What if-

"Oh," Puck said after a moment, putting his book down and ducking a little. "It's no big deal. We don't have to, like, talk about it, right?"

Kurt wanted to tell Puck that he was _crazy_. Of course they were going to talk about this! This was a huge effing deal! Unless, of course, Puck didn't mean it. Or he did mean it in that, no-big-deal, I-love-ya-man sort of way. In which case, why the hell did Kurt arrange this whole alone-for-at-least-a-few-hours situation? Because Kurt was addicted to the taste of Puck's lips and the awesome things his hands could do and the warm comfort of skin-on-skin?

"No," Kurt decided. Things were great the way they were. Kurt had said he would be here for the long haul, so why would he ruin it by asking stupid questions like whether or not Puck meant what he said. "We don't have to talk about it."

Puck said, "Cool," softly and brushed the side of Kurt's face with a light kiss. "I kinda suck with words." Kurt was still trying to figure out what Puck meant by that when the guy shifted closer and pulled Kurt's chin so they could kiss properly. As often as they'd been doing this lately, Kurt had never felt this sort of kiss before. It wasn't playful or intense. It wasn't desperate or comforting. It felt like a message.

It felt like love.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Puck pulled back and whispered, "Okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt croaked, having to clear his throat a little before his voice worked. "Yeah, okay, Noah. Me too."

"Sweet," Puck smiled, leaning in for another kiss. "Can we get naked now?"

Kurt laughed, wondering why he was so surprised by the request. "Yeah. But no sex."

"I'm not stupid," Puck scoffed with a chuckle, reaching for and undoing the buttons of Kurt's shirt. "And I'll take what I can get. But seriously, as soon as this kid is out and I'm recovered, we're spending like, a whole _week_ in bed."

Kurt gasped at the way Puck's fingers brushed up the skin on his back and hastily agreed.

* * *

_This one took awhile to get right, and there was much more that got pushed back into later chapters. I hope it didn't end up too fluffy… Who am I kidding? Fluff ended up being the point of this chapter! :D_

_As always, please leave any comments/reviews/suggestions. Anything and everything helps!_


	14. Chez Puckerman

_Thanks for all the reviews and such! I'm ecstatic so many people like this fic!_

**Chapter 14 – Chez Puckerman**

"Did you hear something?" Kurt mumbled, his face still buried in Puck's pillows and his hair sticking up in all directions. "How long before your mom and Sarah are supposed to get back?"

Puck rolled over, regrettably removing his hand from Kurt's bare ass, so he could see the clock beside the bed. "Not for another hour. What did you hear, babe?"

Turning to reveal his bright blue eyes and those kiss-reddened lips, Kurt shrugged. "It sounded sort of like the front door. But I'm probably just being paranoid. In any case," he said, reaching over Puck to grab his previously-abandoned pants. "I'm going to go check it out."

"I'll come with you," Puck insisted, finding a pair of pajama pants at the foot of the bed and pulling those on. Hey, it wasn't like his jeans fit anymore, anyway.

"Noah," Kurt warned, one hand on his hip. "What if it's a burglar or something?"

Puck scoffed, "Like anyone would have the stones to rob Chez Puckerman. And if it _is_ a burglar, what are _you_ gonna do about it?"

"What are _you _gonna do?" Kurt hissed, eyes pointedly on Puck's gravid belly - what? Puck had learned a new word from all the baby books.

"Just-" Puck growled, seeing his shirt on the floor and giving it up as a lost cause for being so far down, and went to his dresser for a new one. "We'll go together, alright?"

"You have to-" Kurt was saying when the door burst open in front of him, letting what seemed like a hundred jocks in letterman jackets pour into the room.

"Victory!" "We won!" they cried, a giant trophy leading the way into the room, while Puck's heart beat in a frenzy of horror. "State Champs, what up!"

One by one, as they saw Puck's shirtless, pregnant form and Kurt looking recently fooled around with and less than put together, Puck's former teammates stopped cheering. Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped. A camera flashed. Puck scrambled into a shirt, but it only really hid his skin and his nipples, not the all-important baby bump.

"I told _one _of you to come up here," Coach Beiste's voice bellowed from down the hall, "not all of you idiots! Are you all dumber than an eaglet's ankle? You probably woke the poor boy!"

Just before Beiste got to Puck's room, while Kurt was backing toward Puck like he wanted to be between him and the group of "Neanderthals", a camera flashed again. That was it. Puck was so screwed.

"Dude," Azimio asked, and Puck wondered how the hell that fat ass was on the basketball team, "are you pregnant?"

"Guys!" someone else cried, "Puckerman really is a girl! He's pregnant!"

"What's that Hummel fag doin' here?" Karofsky asked. Now Puck _knew _that guy wasn't on the team. He was probably just hanging out so he could perv on all his jock friends. That's how things had happened between Karofsky and Puck in the first place.

"Enough!" Beiste cried, sparing an astounded look for Puck before rounding on the team and pushing them back. "Everyone back downstairs and onto the bus! Move it!" The coach glared at them until everyone reluctantly left, talking and laughing to each other.

"Puck's pregnant! What a homo!"

"God," Puck groaned, letting his head fall onto Kurt's shoulder when the boy backed up close enough. "I am totally boned."

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Beiste said, "I'm so sorry about that, guys. We were so excited about wining the game. I _told _them to wait for permission, not to barge in..."

"You were trying to do something nice," Kurt nodded beside Puck's ear, one hand reaching to pat Puck on the back of the head.

"Everyone's gonna know!" Puck groaned again. It was his fault, really, for thinking he could keep this thing under wraps.

"Sorry," Beiste cringed again, backing out the door. "We'll just ... leave."

As soon as she was gone, Kurt closed the door and then came back, giving Puck a tight hug. "It's okay, Noah. It's okay-"

"It's not fucking okay," Puck groaned, getting lightheaded and stumbling back to the bed. Lowering himself carefully, Puck said, "Our secret's out. We're gonna be famous, Hummel."

"Not really how I was looking for fame," Kurt sighed, sitting down beside Puck and petting his scalp - damn him for getting that trick from Ruth. It always fucking worked to calm Puck down.

It almost worked this time, too, except Karofsky barged back into the room. Puck expected a few taunts, but the guy looked way too freaked out. And he wasn't fucking saying _anything_. "What?" Puck asked, hating the way Kurt started shaking beside him the longer Karofsky stood there without an apparent agenda.

"Dude," Karofsky replied, licking his lips nervously. "It's not, like _mine_, is it?"

"Why would...?" Kurt asked, looking for answers from Puck.

Really wishing he had the energy to stand up, Puck cried, "No! No, it's not yours!"

"But we..." Karofsky added, smirking at Kurt a little.

"You...and _him_?" Kurt asked, jumping away from Puck, looking almost disgusted, like he didn't already know Puck was the town bike.

"Dave," Puck sighed, really hating the sight of this douche. He was upsetting Puck's boy! "We fucked once. Like, over the summer, three months before I got pregnant."

"Um."

"And seriously, think about who did what to who... How would _I _be the one pregnant after that?"

"Oh," Karofsky nodded, giving Kurt a really uncomfortable look. "But that means..."

"Kurt fucked the shit outta me," Puck agreed, grinning at his boyfriend. "So get the fuck out of my house and tottle your fat ass back down to that bus before it leaves without you."

"But..."

"Get out!" Kurt yelled, looking like he was about to cry. "Get out of my freaking life, Karofsky! Stay away from me, stay away from Puck and stay away from our son!"

"Jesus," Karofsky muttered, his hands up as he backed away. "I'll leave you two _lesbians _to it!"

"Aaghhh!" Kurt cried in frustration, closing and bolting Puck's bedroom door once the jock reached the hallway. "Please, please tell me you remembered to use protection with him!"

Puck nodded, "And it was still pretty gross. Sorry I didn't, like clue you in or whatever. I figured he'd take that to the grave."

Sitting down on the bed, a good two feet away from Puck, Kurt sighed, "I didn't ask you earlier, because I was pretty sure I didn't want to know, but generally, how many people have you been with?"

Because he could not see this conversation going well, Puck stalled, pulling his legs up onto the bed so he could sit back against the headboard and asking, "What counts as 'been with'?"

"Tongue," Kurt declared, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow, his lips pursed.

"Girls, like thirty-ish. Guys, five, including you."

"Jesus Christ, Puck! At seventeen?" Kurt clucked his tongue in disappointment. "I could probably guess most of the girls, but five guys? Really?"

Puck nodded.

"Who?"

Cringing, Puck asked, "You really wanna know?"

Kurt raised his other eyebrow expectantly.

"Alright," Puck shrugged. "First was Matt-"

"Glee club Matt?"

"Yeah, but only 'cause April Rhodes said we had to make out before she would get naked in the showers with us after football practice. He wasn't into it."

"You were?"

"He tasted awesome," Puck replied, wishing Kurt wasn't so far away. "Since Matt wouldn't do it with me, I went to Columbus and found a college dude. Hector. We hooked up at a party, I lost his number."

"By accident?" Kurt asked, doing that thing where his eyes darted back and forth, looking at each of Puck's eyes in turn. "Or..."

"On purpose. I mean, he was cool or whatever, but lived too far away to see much of, y'know?"

"Karof- that _jerk _and I make three and four," Kurt noticed. "But who was number five?"

Glad that this little interrogation was almost over, Puck told his boyfriend, "That guy, Brett, from school."

"The stoner?"

"Yeah. We got high together sometimes. The last time, shit just sort of happened. I don't think he remembers."

"Wow..." Kurt shook his head, gaping a little as he searched for the words. "Except for Matt and me, you have _exceptionally_ poor taste."

Puck laughed a little, hoping that was the right move to keep Kurt from looking so freaked out.

"Why did you even look at me," Kurt asked, "when you had college guys and several guys at school and all the women you'd ever want?"

"Kurt," Puck shook his head and leaned forward, holding his hand out in the hopes that the boy would take it. "You're hot in this fragile sort of way that really gets me." Kurt smiled and took Puck's hand, finally. "To have all that attached to a dick? I can't believe I forgot I was with _you_ that night. Just you dancing around at the party had me half-hard the whole time."

Kurt blushed redder and redder as Puck spoke, burying his face in one hand before Puck was done. "So...you could be happy being with me, forever?"

Puck's mouth went dry. As a rule, he didn't make promises he couldn't keep, because that was all his father had ever done. But imagining a life with Kurt, and their son, Puck found himself agreeing, despite Finn's warning that Kurt would want a real wedding, "Yeah, baby. I could. So long as you're cool with me fucking you sometimes, too."

Kurt laughed and it sounded wet, almost like a sob. "You have no idea how much I want that," he chuckled, crawling up the bed to wrap his arms under Puck's pits and squeeze him tightly around the chest. "Now I just have to scrub the image of you and Karofsky out of my brain!"

"Yeah, good luck with that," Puck replied, suddenly remembering their lives were going to change drastically now that people knew. "We should go somewhere," Puck suggested, "where no one knows us. I don't wanna deal with being the amazing fucking pregnant man on the news every night, and you know that's what's gonna happen."

"Where would we go? We don't have enough money to live on our own yet, especially if someone needs to be with you all the time," Kurt sighed. "I think we just have to weather the storm here, Noah."

"Shit."

* * *

"No, dad," Kurt sighed into his phone, "if I come home tonight, I'm just going to get stuck there once all the news people show up."

"So when will you be home?" Burt asked, disappointment thick in his voice. Guilt settled in Kurt's stomach and made him stop pacing the hallway and slide down the wall into a crouch, his head falling back against the drywall.

"My pores will regret this, but I don't know," Kurt told his dad. "I know I've barely been around lately, and I'm sorry about that."

"It's almost like you never moved home," his dad replied. "Finn and Carole miss you too, bud."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that, other than, "I know."

Following another sigh, Burt asked, "Is there anything here that you need? Finn and I could probably chance bringing over a care package, maybe some groceries. The Pick 'N' Save's twenty-four hour now."

Overwhelmed by his dad's concern, Kurt sobbed a little out of nowhere and whispered, "I love you, dad!"

"I love you too, Kurt," he replied, that thick gruffness to his voice that Kurt always associated with the Burt talking about Kurt's mom. "So, what do you say?"

"I'll email Finn the list."

"Good boy. I'll go get Finn from Rachel's and we'll be on our way."

"He's at Rachel's?" Kurt laughed. Their reconciliation must have happened during or after the big game. "No wonder he wasn't here around to warn us the team was coming over!"

"Yeah," Burt laughed humorlessly. "Be there soon."

"Thanks, dad."

Burt grunted, "You're damn welcome, kid," before the line went dead.

"Kurt?" a small voice asked, just after he hung up the phone. "You okay?"

"Ruth," Kurt smiled, wiping away a tear. "No, I'm good."

The woman knelt down next to him with a frown, "People who are 'good' don't cry, Kurt. Is Noah alright?"

"Yeah," Kurt answered hurriedly, patting her knee. "He's fine. Blowing up aliens, I think."

"Then what is it?"

Kurt had no idea how to break the news, or if it was even his place. Maybe this was something Puck wanted to do. He was pretty rigid about family things, for a guy that played it loose with everything else.

"Did he say something do you?" Ruth asked, frowning at Noah's closed bedroom door like if she thought about it hard enough, she could smack her son upside the head through the oak paneling. "It's probably just mood swings…"

Kurt gave the woman a half-smile and shook his head. "No, it's not him. It's -"

The ringing of the house phone, sitting on the end table between where they were sitting and Sarah's room next door, interrupted Kurt and he cringed when Ruth went to go answer it. That had to be a reporter, right? The news was out. Kurt wondered how soon this would be trending on twitter and whether or not he should just update his Facebook profile to include 'in a relationship with Noah Puckerman' or if that was too formal and too public for Puck to handle.

"Yes?" Ruth sang as she answered the phone. "Oh, hey, Trish! … You know, same old … oh, really?" Here it comes … "No, I told her to divorce that son of a bitch. Vicky never listens to me!" When Ruth turned around and realized Kurt was still there, she interrupted whoever she was talking with, saying, "Look, sweetie, I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow during my lunch hour, okay? … And I realize that," Ruth smiled, patting Kurt on the knee lightly, "but my son needs me."

By the way Ruth caught his eyes, Kurt knew she was talking about him. She considered him her son? He had been spending a lot of time here lately. Or maybe, she was just hoping for Kurt to make an honest man out of her actual son, and this was her way of guilting him into it. The woman was a black-belt in the subject. Noah would never go for that, would he? Sure, he might make a commitment for the sake of their kid, and he might actually keep it for the foreseeable future, but having a baby with Kurt was one thing. Declaring their partnership to the world by getting married was an entirely different affair.

A little miffed by the realization, Kurt figured the hell with Puck being the one to open his mouth and told Ruth, "By morning everyone will know about Noah's pregnancy. The basketball team dropped by unexpectedly."

"Oh, dear," Ruth sighed, shaking her head and pulling Kurt into a hug. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. I'll go check all the doors and windows. Oh, damn. Sarah's at a friend's house. I'll have to go get her. You, stay with him, alright? If I know my son and how much he takes after his father, he'll be half-way packed already. You - you keep him here, okay?"

After just a second of confused hesitation over Ruth's almost panicky concern, Kurt assured her, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

They stood up together, Ruth trotting down the stairs and Kurt letting himself back into Puck's room. The guy sat propped up against his headboard as usual, his computer in his lap. Kurt pushed away the mental image of his boyfriend having sex with David Karofsky of all people, and climbed into bed next to him. "I'm going to stay with you, Noah," Kurt whispered, leaning over to see that Puck was browsing what looked like every news site he could think of. "My dad's bringing my things."

"I still say we fuck this place and try our luck somewhere else. I'll buzz the 'hawk, grow a 'stache or something, you can dye your hair and-"

"First of all, I am not dying my hair," Kurt insisted, taking the computer away and closing it before setting it on the floor, where he knew Puck couldn't reach it. "Second, we're staying here, baby. I don't care if there are news vans out there for the next five years, we're having our son here in Lima and we're finishing school and that's final. And third? If you grow a mustache I will shave it off in your sleep, razor burn or no razor burn, got me?"

One last pleading look, which Kurt had to fight to keep his face strong and determined against, and Puck sighed, "God. Sometimes you're worse than my mom!"

Kurt knew this was for the best, and getting to use his bossy voice on Puck was fun, because now when he did it Puck actually listened, but he hated feeling like a jailer. The only thing between Puck and freedom was the baby Kurt had put in his body on accident. "I just want Junior to be okay," Kurt admitted softly. "I'm not ready for that to happen somewhere else without our family and our friends."

Puck shrugged and turned to lay down on his side, facing away from Kurt, who felt like he was being asked to leave. Oh, no. Not this far along. Not when Noah would need him so badly as soon as the news vans arrived. So, Kurt took a chance and lay down behind Puck, getting under the blankets with him and holding him close. "I'm sorry this happened."

"The team finding out or the baby?"

Kurt was so shocked by what Puck was apparently thinking of him that he gasped. "The team! For Dior's sake, Noah! If there was no baby, I wouldn't have fallen... Um, we wouldn't be together. I can't be sorry about that."

Puck's back stiffened at the words Kurt didn't say, but after a moment he relaxed and nodded his head, the back of his Mohawk tickling Kurt's nose. They lay together long enough in Puck's dark room that Kurt thought his boyfriend might be asleep, when suddenly he whispered, "I'm sorry I ruined your de-virginizing by being a drunken douche who got pregnant."

Kurt laughed, pressing his forehead to the back of Puck's neck and hugging him tighter. "At least you weren't a girl. I thought you might have been Rachel when I first woke up in her room."

Chuckling, Puck laced his fingers together with Kurt's and hugged his arm. "I thought maybe I'd slept with her, too, when she woke me up."

"There's just a whole slew of mental images I didn't need today," Kurt replied dryly, glad to make Noah laugh a little more.

"Hey, don't knock it until you try it," Puck said, and Kurt could hear his grin.

"Making out with Brittany was close enough, thank you very much. I don't need to 'try it.' You wouldn't get it. You're attracted to everyone."

"Not _everyone_," Puck argued. "I'd never do Principal Figgins, or something."

"More mental images I do not need," Kurt giggled. "But at least I should take some comfort in the fact that you won't leave me for our _principal_. What about the eighty-year-old lunch lady? Mrs. Huntington?"

"Oh, she's a total GILF, no sweat," Puck snorted.

"GILF?" Kurt asked, before having the most disgusting light-bulb moment ever. "Oh, _grandmother_ I'd like to … Gross. But if your love with Gladys is all powerful, what am I doing standing between you two?"

"Kurt," Puck said, his voice suddenly serious as he turned back to meet Kurt's eyes in the dim room. "Dude, I won't leave you. Get that shit outta your head."

Something about Puck's declaration was better than any promise he'd made before, maybe it was Kurt's fear of what was going to happen in the morning, or maybe it was Puck's outright dismissal of what was in Kurt's mind a very real possibility, but suddenly this huge emotion welled up in Kurt's throat. He wasn't sure if it was love or gratitude or what, but it made him blurt out, "Blaine kissed me. When I was moving back to Lima, he kissed me. I'm sorry I didn't stop him, but I chose you."

"Because of Junior," Puck shrugged, turning away again, though staying in Kurt's embrace.

"Not-" Kurt tried to argue, but he knew the baby was a big reason he'd stayed with Puck. "Only at first," he insisted. "But I keep choosing you, every day. And not just because of our son." Kurt sat up and gently turned Noah to face him. "Because I want to be with you, all the time, Noah."

It took a minute, but a slow smile grew on Puck's face and he murmured, "Cool," pulling Kurt into a soft kiss. "Besides, why _wouldn't_ you pick me? I'm the Puckinator, baby. I can create _life_. I'd like to see Blaine do that shit."

Kurt just laughed and kissed Puck again, sure a million times over he'd made the right decision, even if he had to face a media storm every day, just to see the outside world.

* * *

"This is like waiting for the electric chair," Puck complained, clicking through all of the news sites on his browser again. "I know it's going to happen, but it's already Monday afternoon and _nothing_, dude."

"Crappy," Finn empathized over the phone. "Maybe we should get Kurt out while we still can. You know, so he can come to Regionals. It's only, like, two weeks away, dude."

"But," Puck complained, moving away from the damn news sites and indulging in his newest hobby – finding cheap baby stuff. People practically gave their gear away when their kid got big enough. "If you take Kurt away, who's gonna fool around with me? Seriously, these baby hormones are like, whoa! Major blue balls, dude."

"I don't need to know," Finn whined. "Keep that stuff to yourself, okay dude?"

"What else am I gonna – holy fuck, dude! I'm sending you an awesome link!" Puck cried. "Check it out!"

"It's not porn is it?"

"No," Puck laughed, well aware of why Finn might be wary of opening any links he sent. But how could he not? That midget porn was seriously messed up. "I swear on my baby, Finn. It's not porn."

"Speaking of, I think you should name him something cool," the guy replied, "like Finn."

"That's even worse than Kurt wanting to name him Marc-with-a-c, a fucking 'c', dude. After some bullshit designer."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Finn warned.

"I'm not suicidal," Puck laughed. "He's in the shower. I can hear him singing Gaga or whatever."

"Ohhh!" Finn crooned and Puck knew he'd gotten the link. "Is that…?"

"It's a fuckin' baby hat with a Mohawk built right in! I'm so learning how to make that!"

"You're going to knit? Puck, forget about everyone knowing you're pregnant. If a picture of you _knitting_ got leaked, you'd never live that shit down!"

Puck sighed, "What the fuck else am I going to do? I can't leave the house, I can barely leave my bed, I'm going stir-crazy and it's not like I can take up motocross or something. Besides, I know if I make it, Kurt won't have the heart to veto the thing, or burn it or whatever. It's win-win!"

"Whatever," Finn laughed. "Have fun with that. Mom's calling me down for dinner, so I gotta go."

"Right. Talk to ya later, dude," Puck said, tossing his phone down next to him on the bed and setting his computer to the side as well. Carefully, he stood up and went to the window. Still nothing. No news vans, no reporters, no dudes with telephoto cameras. What the fuck?

* * *

_Picture of the baby hat (aww!): _http:/www. thebestofdiy .com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/mohawkhat-300x285 .jpg

_More angsty than the last chapter (who can resist making Kurt cry?), but I'm pretty happy with it. As always, please leave any comments/reviews/suggestions. Anything and everything helps!_


	15. Regionals

_Sorry this took so long. I got writer's block and then I got distracted writing some other things, but now I'm back, hopefully to put this fic to bed before too much longer. I hope you enjoy it!_

**Chapter 15 – Regionals**

"Shit," Kurt groaned, which made Puck look over at the other side of the couch, where he was sitting with his laptop. For reasons Puck didn't understand, Kurt usually refrained from swearing. Something about being sophisticated or whatever. "It's starting."

"Shit," Puck agreed, groaning as he shifted closer to his boyfriend, so he could see the laptop screen as well. He was just over six months pregnant, already really big because he didn't exactly have the internal equipment to house the kid right, and was seriously freaked out that one wrong move would mean the death of a person he loved more than anyone else, except maybe Beth.

The screen showed a video of Dr. Wu holding up one of the pictures that must have been taken that night almost a week ago, though his identity had been covered up by a yellow smiley-face. Wasn't that just all dignified and crap? Dr. Wu was saying, "I can neither confirm nor deny that this person is my patient."

"Fucking sell out," Puck huffed.

"Shush," Kurt hissed, patting Puck's hand. "There's more."

"But it appears to be a man, who is pregnant," the doctor continued. "Now, having treated a male patient once before, I can say that I am an expert."

"How common is it?" a woman's voice asked from off screen.

"Extremely rare," the man replied. "About one in a billion. There have been eight reported cases and two live births in the history of medicine, both in the Jewish community."

"So this is only a Jewish affliction?"

"Well," the doctor shrugged, "I don't think anyone would call this an _affliction_, and it's not exclusive to any one ethnic group, but we can say that five of the eight cases occurred in men of Jewish decent."

"Fuck me," Puck groaned. The video showed his picture again, which made Puck cringe. "Do I really look like that? Kurt?"

Kurt refused to reply so Puck backhanded him lightly on the shoulder out of annoyance. Then, the reporter came onto camera – a woman Puck didn't recognize, but would totally do under different circumstances – and said, "Well there you have it, folks! If our sources are correct, this man, who appears to be pregnant, lives in the western Ohio city of Lima. That's right folks, this strange occurrence has happened in our own little corner of the world! Sources refuse to reveal the identity of this man, but if anyone recognizes this photo, we encourage you to call the tip line shown on the bottom of the screen!"

"Oh, God!" Puck cried, sharing a horrified look with his boyfriend. "You know someone's gonna call!"

Kurt nodded as the news lady continued, "Now, let's hear from some local people about this issue." The view changed to show a man standing outside the Home Depot, a bright orange microphone stuck in his face, his identity blurred out. "Sir? How do you feel about this homosexual man from your community carrying a child?"

"What?" the man asked, and Puck thought his voice sounded familiar. "Where did you get this picture? Turn that camera off!"

"Dad?" Kurt asked the screen, an edge of hysteria in his voice. Puck could recognize the elder Hummel now, from those work-boots to the awkward tone in his voice.

"When further questioned," the reporter sneered, "that man refuse to admit he knew the subject of the photo, though he was clearly upset by its contents."

Next, a woman showed up on the screen, telling the reporter, "I think it's just sick. Only women should have babies!"

"But our expert tells us this was a natural human variation. This man was born being able to get pregnant."

"It's still not right," the woman insisted and Puck caught Kurt's hand when he looked like he was going to punch his own computer. "Men having babies with other men? It's already a man's world, and now they don't need women at all anymore? Pfft!"

"What do you think, sir?" the reporter asked another, well-dressed man.

"Wh-why are you asking me?" he replied, and Puck heard a little feminine cast to his voice that was apparently hard for the reporter to ignore as well. "That's just ... freakish, isn't it? Who would do something like this? Definitely not me!"

"You're not a family man, sir?"

"Oh, I have two children, actually. With my wife. Who's very much a woman, thank you very much."

"Compensating," Kurt sang out with a scoff and Puck found himself nodding in agreement.

"There you have it, folks," the reporter declared as she faced the camera. "Your friends and neighbors disturbed by this pregnant man in their midst. Again, if you have any idea who this might be, please call our tip line. Any tipsters giving us information that leads directly to the identification of this intriguing man will receive a fifteen dollar gift certificate to Breadstix! Western Ohio's most popular Italian eatery!"

"This was sent to everyone in the school," Kurt told Puck, looking up at him sympathetically.

"Why didn't whoever sent them that picture just tell them who I am? What's going on?"

"I don't know," Kurt replied, putting his arm around Puck's shoulders and squeezing. "Maybe Coach Beiste threatened them?"

"Maybe," Puck nodded. How long could the Coach really keep her guys from talking, especially if Breadstix was involved? "If I wasn't getting a family out of this," he sighed, "I would hate my life so much right now."

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered.

"Yeah," Puck replied gratefully, pulling the guy into a hug and trying to tell himself that Kurt was going through this too. "Thanks, baby."

* * *

"I asked the guys," Finn said as he knocked on Puck's open bedroom door, a plastic bag full of papers and other homework-looking things in his hands. Handing the bag to Kurt, who had been working at the desk, he continued, "And they said it was Sue. She didn't want them ruining her charity event."

Rachel stuck her head in after Finn, saying, "And then this afternoon, before anyone could leave the school, Sue held an assembly. She threatened all our lives and practically suffocated Jacob Ben Israel as an example."

"I think he had to go to the hospital," Finn added helpfully.

"Sue doesn't think she'll generate nearly as much money for her 'charity' if everyone finds out you're pregnant, and not dying of a tumor," Rachel sighed, placing one hand on Kurt's elbow before coming over and giving Puck a hug. Hey, this was the closest Puck was going to get to boobs in a very long time. He might as well enjoy it, right? Puck wondered if she and Kurt would both get mad at him for honking just one of those bad boys. Yeah, they would.

"Probably not," Puck agreed as Rachel pulled back, ignoring Kurt's semi-jealous look. What? He couldn't get hugs from his hot friends? "Since this," he pointed at his distended belly, "is evidence of my homo-freakishness."

"Don't talk about yourself that way, dude," Finn insisted, stepping closer and putting one of those supposed-to-be-comforting-but-actually-insulting hands on Puck's shoulder. "You're … you're unique is all. One-of-a-kind!"

"In other words, _freak_," Puck insisted dryly. "Sue should be charging admission instead of trying to run a charity. She'd make a lot more money."

"Hey," Kurt said with a harsh tone, coming over from the chair to sit right beside Puck on the bed. "Don't do this to yourself, Noah. You're an amazing badass who created life, remember?" Kurt gently placed both hands on Puck's belly and suddenly, with that simple touch, Puck felt better.

* * *

"You're sure you want to go?" Kurt asked for about the hundredth time, and Puck found it really difficult not to snap back that of course he was sure. He was a part of this team, damn it, even if he couldn't compete. He'd be there to support them if he could and Puck was fairly certain that Kurt's Navigator would get them to Fort Wayne and back without hurting the baby. The shocks on that thing were seriously like butter, as his mom would say.

"I'm sure," Puck managed to say without growling. "Wu said I could, remember?"

"I still can't believe he did that news piece," Kurt huffed, lending Puck a hand to help him up. After not using his legs very much for the past two months, Puck's legs felt damn shaky and he was glad to have Kurt's help.

"I know," Puck grunted, putting on the hat and coat Kurt gave him. It was spring and he was going to roast wearing this much, but how else was he going to hide the kid? After that news report, everyone and their mother was looking for the amazing pregnant dude everywhere, but no one at McKinley had gone against Sue's decree and reported him to the media. Yet. "I talked to Britt's mom yesterday afternoon when you were at rehearsal, and she's looking around for a new doctor for me. One who's not such a tool."

"Good," Kurt nodded, smiling as he slid a dark pair of sunglasses into place on Puck's face. "Honey, I think you're ready to face the masses."

Puck felt a fond smile spread across his face. He'd never tell anyone, but he sort of dug the way Kurt called him, "honey". It made him feel like someone actually gave a damn about him. It made Puck feel loved. The Puckerone was lusted after all the time (when his body was still his), but the only people who _loved_ him were his family members, and most of them didn't actually like him all that much. Puck's dad hadn't even liked him well enough to stay in touch after he ran off to be famous.

"Thanks, baby," Puck told Kurt, leaning in to hug the boy one-armed, pressing his cheek to Kurt's jawline and breathing him in.

* * *

Puck was made to sit between Burt and Carole, so they could protect him or whatever and he felt like the least badass man ever to walk the planet. It didn't help that he was too warm and couldn't really take off his coat without totally giving himself away in this auditorium full of people who hadn't been personally terrorized by Sue Sylvester into keeping his condition a secret.

Sue's team, Aural Intensity, went first and they were alright, but Puck could tell right away that New Directions was going to be better. He'd been sitting in on most of their rehearsals since being stuck on bed rest, and even though it was sort of tortuous watching and not getting to join in, it was better than the crippling boredom he'd been facing lately, new-found hobbies or no.

When Aural Intensity finished up, Burt leaned over and asked, "So what did you think, son? Seemed to me those guys were supposed to look happy, or you know, gleeful. Not scared out of their minds."

"It's their coach," Puck laughed. "Miss Sylvester has been known to make grown men cry, and Santana told me once that it wasn't a Cheerio's rehearsal until someone broke down into sobs."

"Ah," he replied. "What about that new football coach at your school. Is she scary too? She must have done something to get you guys to State this year."

"Coach Beiste?" Puck laughed, sobering a little when he remembered how embarrassed and guilty she looked for letting the team find out about him. "Nah, she's good. Actually knows her stuff, unlike Tanaka. One of those bark is worse than her bite sort of coaches."

"That's good," Burt nodded. "You think you'll go out for football again in the fall?"

"I'd like to," Puck admitted, patting his stomach lightly, "but I think this little guy's gonna make it impossible, since I'm gonna need a job."

Burt nodded thoughtfully but then the Warblers started their set and the conversation died. Burt still scared him a little, but now that he'd had some time to get used to the whole pregnancy thing, the guy seemed a lot more supportive and a lot less protective of his son. Puck wondered if Burt was at all upset about Kurt practically moving in with him for no apparent reason, other than they were all but sleeping together now.

* * *

Nervous energy ran through Kurt's veins as he watched the Warblers (Blaine) perform. If not for one drunken act, he'd probably be up there right now, playing second fiddle to Blaine's awesome solos. Except Kurt knew they could do better than this, so he wasn't quite sure how the Warbler's council had settled on "Rainbow Connection" as one of their Anthem-themed songs. The arrangement was nice, and they let Blaine do some inspired riffs off the original melody, but it just wasn't … powerful.

Oh yeah. McKinley had this in the bag. As the song ended and Kurt politely stood up during the ovation, he turned around to check on his boyfriend sitting in the seat behind him. He'd seen Noah speaking with Carole and Kurt's dad a few times, and hoped he was doing alright. Having him outside the house, or hell, outside the hospital, made Kurt more anxious than he knew he had to be, but he'd never been a father before. He'd never fallen in love before.

Noah met his eyes with a little smirk and then shuffled a little closer to the back of Kurt's seat, pulling Kurt halfway over it despite the deep grown on Burt's face just three feet away. "Good luck, Kurt," Noah said in his ear, giving him one of those soft kisses that Kurt was sure meant, "I love you," in Puckerman.

"Thank you," Kurt replied as Rachel led the way out of their row and Mercedes tugged on his hand. "Cross your fingers for us, Noah!"

"I will," Puck called, sitting down carefully as the rest of the audience did. God, he was getting so big. How could he not broil in that outfit? Kurt should have thought of something lighter-weight to dress the boy in for this event. Well, as long as Puck didn't pass out, Kurt considered this a live-and-learn sort of fashion moment. He'd been having those since he could talk, if Kurt's dad was to be believed.

In that split second between when they lined up onstage and when the curtain rose, Kurt suddenly missed his mom. It happened from time to time, sure, but moments like this, the big moments he'd been working toward for what felt like forever, made it worse. He wondered how proud she would be of him, singing with his friends at regionals. Then, he wondered if she would be ashamed of or disappointed in him for getting Noah pregnant, or if she would be proud of the way he was handling it. If she was here, would she be the one sitting next to Noah instead of Carole, holding his hand and making sure he was alright? What Kurt remembered best about his mom wasn't her face or her voice or even her smell, it was the way she'd always indulged his little oddities and made him feel loved, just for being himself.

He hoped he would have the wisdom and strength to treat his son the same way she had treated him. Kurt hoped his relationship with Noah was strong enough to give him the chance.

* * *

Puck knew it. His crew beat the crap out of the competition. Their dance moves were hot, their vocals nothing but impressive, especially given how many solos they'd managed to work into eight minutes of performance, and their wardrobe classy and exciting (which was all his boo's doing, Puck was sure). Now they just had twenty minutes to kill while the judges deliberated.

Kurt came trotting out into the auditorium, his eyes bright and his cheeks rosy, giving his family (including Puck, apparently) a group hug before pulling Puck down into a crazy-hot kiss. "How are you doing?" Kurt asked in his ear when they parted, ignoring Burt and Carole's lighthearted teasing and Finn's whistle.

"Honestly," Puck replied with a grimace, "I really gotta take a piss. Junior's sitting on my bladder something fierce."

"I'll take you," Kurt insisted, grabbing Puck's hand and slinging that arm over his shoulders, more like he thought Puck need the help walking than like he wanted to cuddle. Being pregnant was not doing very good things for Puck's pride. "We'll get you out from all these layers in one of the stalls, too. You look overheated, sweetie."

Off to their left, some jerk-off coughed, "Fags!" and his whole group erupted with laughter. Puck sent them a glare that said as clearly as he could, "If I was on top form right now, you assholes would be dead," but he couldn't back up his threat. All he could do these days was let Kurt help him to the freaking bathroom, sit in bed, study, and freaking knit of all things.

"Fuck my life," he murmured under his breath, wincing when it looked like Kurt had heard him.

"Noah," he said back softly when they reached the rest room, "it's just a few more months, right?"

Puck nodded with a sigh and promised, "When I get my guns back, no fucker would dare mess with us anymore."

Kurt agreed and pushed Puck toward the handicapped stall, following him in despite the weird look a guy gave them. Grossed out by how sweaty he felt, Puck scrambled out of all his layers, save the wife beater next to his skin, passing all of them over so Kurt could hold them. He chuckled at the thought that it was a good thing he had a big dick, because otherwise he might not be able to see well enough past his belly to aim for the toilet. When he was done emptying his bladder, Puck flushed and turned back to his boyfriend.

"Dude, in case I didn't already tell you, you guys were awesome," he said softly. "I'm psyched Schue actually gave you a solo this year."

"Me too," Kurt chuckled, an amused smile on his face as he handed Puck the throw blanket he'd tied around his upper body to hide the fact that except for the very conspicuous bulge in his lower abdomen, he was actually pretty lean (skinny without his muscles, damn it). This way he just looked fat.

But then Puck looked at the blanket, up at Kurt, then back to the blanket before saying, "I can't do it. I'm melting, babe. Just, give me a few minutes to cool down."

"Wanna put on just the coat?" Kurt asked. "We could step outside for a few minutes and see if that helps."

"I think it's warmer out there than it is in here," Puck complained, shaking his head and leaning back against the cool tiled wall.

He was just starting to feel a little better when some guy knocked on the stall door and called gruffly, "Hey, what's going on in there? One person to a stall!"

"It's the handicapped stall," Kurt called back, pushing Puck's coat back into his arms, and he cringed as he put it back on. "I'm helping my friend, who is very sick. Give us a minute!"

"Your _friend_," the guy laughed in disbelief before rattling the door. "Don't think I don't know what you homos are up to. Get out of there!"

"Fuck off!" Puck sneered, zipping up his coat and stuffing the blanket down the front. God, this was miserable, but at the moment he was more worried about Kurt, who looked too fucking scared.

When he nodded, Kurt unlocked the door and shrieked in surprise when he got bowled backward into Puck by the douche that had been giving them a hard time. The last thing Puck remembered was tripping over his own feet and falling, his last thought, _God, please! Not the kid!_

* * *

_Sorry for the angsty turn and the cliffhanger, but it was the only way I could get over my writer's block. I've got half of the next chapter done, so I hope to finish that very soon. Please feel free to leave any comments, reviews, or marriage proposals as you see fit!_


	16. Because I Love You

_Oh, man you guys! Just about every review for the last chapter started with some variation of, "Noooooooooo!" so I guess some things **are **universal! By popular demand (and death threat), here is the next chapter. Just a warning, I cried a little while I was writing this chapter, so it just might be a tear-jerker, but I won't spoil why._

**Chapter 16 – Because I Love You**

Kurt remembered the entire split second in graphic, horror-movie slow motion. He was pushed back into Noah, Noah fell, and the boy managed to twist so that he landed on his hands and knees, protecting his stomach, and for a split-second Kurt thought it was going to be okay, until Noah's head hit the edge of the toilet with a dull, squishy thud.

"Noah!" he cried, falling to his knees beside the guy he had fallen in love with and catching his fragile body as it slumped to the floor, unconscious. His whole body shaking with fear, Kurt turned his boyfriend over, gagging when he saw bone before the blood welled up and started pouring out of a gash on Noah's forehead, just below his dark hairline. "Why?" Kurt cried, pulling the blanket out from under Noah's coat and pressing it to the wound as best he could, the way his father had taught him after Carl almost cut his hand clean off at the shop and Burt got anal about safety. Looking up at the surprised man standing at the stall door, Kurt again demanded, "Why?"

"Oh, shit!" the man said, backing away slowly. If that bastard was leaving to go call an ambulance, Kurt was Liza Minnelli.

"Help!" Kurt cried, hoping someone more understanding would hear him. He couldn't root around in his pockets for his phone without moving one of his hands and both hands were preoccupied with holding Noah's neck steady and keeping the cloth pressed tightly against his head. "Noah, wake up! Help!"

"Kurt?" a familiar voice asked, and he didn't even care that it was Blaine.

"In here," he sobbed, wishing Noah would just wake up already. "Call an ambulance! Shit."

"Jesus," Blaine agreed, dropping down to his knees beside them and dialing his phone. Turning, he called out, "Wes! Go find Finn Hudson and tell him where we are, then meet the ambulance and bring them here!"

"Yeah," the Warbler agreed, looking in on them wide-eyed. "You got it."

After that, Kurt blocked out the sounds of Blaine calling for help. He blocked out Finn's arrival and subsequent freak out, he blocked out his Dad telling him it was going to be okay as he ran beside Noah's stretcher out to the ambulance. All he noticed was the way Noah's blood kept seeping through the cloth (why couldn't Kurt favor more absorbent materials, like cotton?) and the way Noah's shallow breath felt against Kurt's wet cheek, letting him know that his boyfriend was still alive.

This was the day he'd been dreading. This was the day he was losing his family. Kurt had prayed (yes, prayed, god damn it) that it would never come, but God, that bastard, was just too cruel.

The ambulance driver had to ask him twice before Kurt could tell him, "Yes. Yes, I'm family," and be allowed to ride along, holding Noah's hand the entire way to the hospital. "Did anyone tell you he's pregnant?"

"This isn't the time for jokes, kid," the paramedic beside him insisted, hanging a clear bag of liquid and attaching it to the needle in Noah's arm.

"I'm not joking," Kurt said, in the best deathly-serious voice he could muster. "Look," he said as he pulled at Noah's coverings and then his wife beater, pushing it up to reveal the baby bump. "Call Dr. Van der Hausen at Lima General. She'll tell you. He's only twenty-six weeks!"

"Oh, my god!" the paramedic breathed, leaning forward to run his gloved hand over the bump. "Shit, he's a kicker! That's a good sign."

Kurt wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but instead asked, "And Noah? Is he…?"

"We never know with head injuries," the paramedic said diplomatically. Probably covering his ass, Kurt thought cynically, bringing Noah's hand up to his mouth and kissing it tightly, hoping with his entire heart for the best.

* * *

"…baby's doing well, Mr. Hummel," Kurt thought he heard the doctor say as he pulled his attention toward the man, "but Noah's brain is swelling more than we would like. He's stable and we've got his wound closed, but we'll have to monitor him closely to make sure we stay on top of any subdural bleeding."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, looking up at his dad and asking, "did anyone call Ruth? She should be the one hearing this. Not me. I'm not even…"

"Shush," Burt insisted, steering Kurt away from the doctor and saying softly in Kurt's ear, "Mrs. Puckerman is on her way, son, but it's an hour and a half drive. She'll be here soon. And don't you give up your say in what happens to the father of your kid, Kurt. That's a right you might not get back very easily." Turning toward the doctor again, Burt asked, "When can we see him?"

"In a few hours," the doctor insisted. "We're keeping him sedated for now, to protect his brain and the baby's safety. If he starts moving around without knowing why he shouldn't, that could end badly. So, don't get upset over the fact that Noah's asleep. We'll probably end up keeping him this way for a few days."

"Days?" Kurt asked, wanting to punch himself for how readily new tears escaped his eyes. No. He wasn't doing this. He had to be strong and badass for Puck, because it was all his fault that the boy was so broken now. He hadn't been strong enough to refuse Puck's advances, he hadn't been strong enough to hold his ground against that bigot in the men's room. He hadn't been strong enough to say no when Puck said he wanted to go to Regionals with them. Why couldn't he have said no?

Back in the waiting room, Finn and Blaine sat side-by-side, across from Carole, while the rest of the glee club (except Sam, who had stayed behind with Mr. Schue to hear the results of the competition) sat various places around the room. It was all too much. Most of these people didn't even like Puck, did they? They didn't know him the way Kurt did, except for maybe Finn. Was this just team loyalty? Did they have nothing better to do than sit here and watch as Kurt crumbled into nothing?

Murmuring, "I need a minute," Kurt escaped the room, walking as quickly as he could down the hallway and toward the bright green exit sign that led him to a stairwell. Legs aching with grief, Kurt climbed all the way to the top of the stairs, stopping when he came across a locked door that led out to the roof. Sitting there in the dim stairwell, Kurt let himself cry.

He didn't know how long he'd been there when a pair of long arms wrapped around him, startling him into looking up. "Finn," he whispered, turning toward his step brother and returning the hug with all his might. "Tell me it's not my fault."

"It's not," Finn insisted, ducking down to look Kurt in the eyes. "It's not your fault, Kurt."

"But…" Kurt sobbed, hating the way he probably looked right now. "I knew it was a bad idea for him to come today. I knew it, but he turns on that charm smile and I can't … I can't think straight, Finn."

"I know," Finn nodded, turning to sit next to Kurt on the landing, one arm tightly across the smaller guy's shoulders. "You love him. It makes it hard to do the right thing … not that letting him come today was the wrong thing," Finn amended quickly, putting on a chagrined face that made Kurt laugh a little through the tears. "I've seen you taking care of him, Kurt. No one else would have stepped up the way you have, man."

"And it didn't matter. He's probably brain dead and-"

"Don't say that," Finn hissed, squeezing Kurt a little tighter for a brief few seconds. "Don't even _think_ it. Puck's going to be fine. He's got a hard head, dude. Believe me, if he got up from jumping off my mom's roof when we were nine, he'll be okay now."

Kurt laughed again, shouldering Finn a little bit in thanks. Then, a thought occurred to Kurt and he said, "I never told him, you know."

"Told him what?"

"That I love him," Kurt confessed, feeling his cheeks redden with shame. "I was convinced he didn't want to hear it because he didn't want to be _that_ gay, but now that all seems so _stupid_."

"Yeah," Finn nodded.

They sat in silence for a long time, Kurt trying not to think too hard about having Noah's blood dried up and stuck under his fingernails, until Finn's phone buzzed with a message. "Huh," he said after reading it.

"What? Is it Puck?"

"No," Finn insisted. "Sam has good news and bad news for us."

"Bad news first," Kurt insisted, thinking he couldn't possibly feel any worse than he did right now, so what was the harm?

Finn cleared his throat and stood up, taking a few steps down before turning to face Kurt on eye-level and saying, "Apparently there's a ton of news crews outside the hospital. Someone tipped them off about Puck being the pregnant guy everyone's been looking for. The police are even holding them back, so unless Sam wants to fake an injury, he and Mr. Schue can't get in."

Kurt's best response to that news was just a dry laugh. "Hello, rock bottom. What's the good news?"

"We won. We're going to Nationals, little brother!"

Kurt wanted to be happy. He wanted to match Finn's smile and jump up and down excitedly. He wanted not to be the reason this happy news would be lost in the worry over whether or not Noah was ever going to wake up.

* * *

"Can you just give me a minute alone with him?" Kurt asked his family when Dr. Tisch said they could see Noah, painfully reminded of the last time he'd been in the hospital, visiting a comatose family member.

So what if Noah wasn't technically his family? He felt like it, damn it, and Kurt had to gather the strength to see him like this. He just had to remember that it probably wasn't as bad as it looked. The only reason Noah wasn't waking up was the medicine the doctors had given him.

When he entered the room, fully expecting to see his boyfriend on death's door, he was surprised to see that the only things off were the dreadful hospital gown, the bandage on his head, and the IV in his arm. He didn't look pale or sick, like Kurt's father had after his arrhythmia. He just looked asleep.

Kurt laughed a sob in relief.

"Um…Hi, honey," Kurt said when he got closer, pulling a chair close to the side of the bed before realizing that wasn't where he wanted to be and toeing off his shoes. Carefully as he could, Kurt climbed into the hospital bed beside Puck, laying his head on the pillow and pulling the covers up over both of them. "I'm here, Noah," he whispered. "You probably can't hear me, because of the drugs, but you should know that Junior's okay. The doctor did an ultrasound and said he's a little small, but moving around well despite your lack of girl parts," Kurt chuckled and slid one arm across Noah's chest, hugging him like when they'd fallen asleep together the night before. "You have to stay asleep for awhile, just to make sure everything's okay."

Taking a long, slow breath, Kurt closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Noah's temple, saying, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a klutz and I'm sorry your mom isn't here yet and I'm sorry I let you leave the house. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, baby, but I love you. So much." Noah didn't move, and Kurt couldn't help the sob that escaped him, rubbing his tears away on Noah's pillowcase. "We won, in case you were wondering, but I don't know if I can go to nationals. You have to get better, okay? When the doctors take you off the medicine on Monday, you have to wake up. Promise?"

Kurt felt like a fool, but cried himself to sleep on Noah's hospital bed anyway.

* * *

"Hi, everyone," Kurt waved into the webcam, managing half a smile.

"Kurt!" Rachel cried out first, her smile huge, but he could see the worry creasing her eyes. "How is he?"

"When the doctors tried to take him off the drugs," Kurt sighed, looking over at the boy sleeping in the hospital bed beside his chair, "he had a seizure. Ruth and I decided to keep him under until Junior's big enough to come out. Hopefully by then, Noah will be better, too. Or at least they can give Noah different drugs without the baby to consider. Dr. Tisch says once Noah's switched over, the risk of seizure will go way down."

"Are you sure you're up for classes, dude?" Sam asked, popping into view from behind Rachel and Mercedes. "You don't look so good."

"I can't fall behind this late in the semester," Kurt insisted. "It's my job to graduate and get good grades and go to college so I can support my boys. If I can do this from Puck's house, I can do this just as well from Fort Wayne."

"Where are you staying, baby boy?" Mercedes asked. "You are sleeping somewhere besides Noah's hospital bed, aren't you?"

"Dad got me a motel room," Kurt told them, wondering why Finn couldn't have explained this all for him. "I go there when the nurses kick me out."

"I wish we could all stay with you," Brittany insisted, pouting into the camera, "but our parents won't let us."

"Don't worry, Kurt," Santana called from the back. "Me and Britts is bringing you a care package tonight after Cheerios practice."

"That's a three-hour drive round trip," Kurt told them. "You don't have to do that."

"Dude," Finn said, turning his laptop around so that his face was the only one Kurt saw. "Everyone here is your guys' family, too. Let us help!"

Kurt smiled, for the first time in a few days giving a real smile, and nodded. "But only Jewish prayers are allowed, or Ruth will have my head. And no Yentl, Rachel. Puck has told me several times how much he hates Streisand, which makes me question why I love him, but that's the way it is."

The glee club chuckled sadly until Mercedes said, "Yeah, but Puck also likes Flava-Flav, so that should tell you something about his taste in general." When Kurt laughed, everyone else took that as their cue to laugh as well. It felt good, talking about Puck like he was just outside the room, instead of unconscious for the foreseeable future.

* * *

"Good morning, Noah," Kurt said when he got to the care facility, still not used to the idea that even though Puck looked perfectly capable of waking up, that drip in his arm made it impossible, and had for the last month. "I've … they want me to go take my finals in Lima next week. I hate leaving you like this, but don't worry. My parents and your mom are taking turns calling in sick to come sit with you, so you won't be alone. There was some talk of moving you to Lima, but the hospital here is much better if Junior has to come out early."

Continuing the little ritual he'd set up for himself, Kurt pulled back Noah's covers so he could set an ear against his round belly. "Good morning, Junior. Daddy won't be around for the next few days, but don't worry. I brought you a recording of my voice, so you won't forget me. All I have of your other dad, though, is him singing, so you'll have to listen to a few less than tasteful songs. I think you'll have to get used to it, though. When Noah's awake, he's always singing _something_ inappropriate."

When the nurse, Betty, came in he chatted with her a bit and thanked her for checking on them. Then, he moved back up to whisper into Noah's ear, "They're taking another picture of your head today, Puckerman. Think good thoughts and they might let you wake up soon. It's been a month without you and I'm so lonely and I don't know how much more of this I can take, alright?"

Noah didn't reply.

* * *

Around six weeks, Kurt took to confessing things to Noah that he'd never told anyone before. "Once, when I was ten, I stole some tinted chap stick from the store and hid it under my bed. No one ever found it and I never even opened it because I was so scared. I threw it away in my next-door-neighbor's trash one day."

"The first crush I ever had was on Hercules. You know, from the Disney movie? Shut up, I was only six and he was really cool. Of course, a year later I had a crush on the red Power Ranger. You probably liked the Pink Ranger, though, didn't you? Or maybe the yellow one, since she was more badass."

"After the first day of high school, I took the face book they passed out – you know, the one with everyone's ID pictures and their names underneath – and made a list of the top ten cutest guys in school. Yeah, I didn't have any friends. Anyway, you were third after Finn and Todd Wright, until you threw me in the dumpster. Of course Finn and Todd were both there, too, so I had to cross you all off and start from scratch. Pretty soon the only boys on my list were Artie and some of the band geeks, which, let's face it, was a little disappointing."

"The reporters only stuck around for a day and a half, once everyone found out you were in a coma and they couldn't interview you. I flipped them off a few times, thinking you would approve."

"I finished knitting that hat you started making. It's cute in an absolutely awful way and I hate the color you picked out, but I did it. Because I love you."

* * *

"Kurt, honey," Ruth said into the phone when he picked it up at three o'clock in the morning, "Junior wasn't doing so hot, so they're getting him out now, at Parkview. Can you get over there? I'm leaving Lima now."

"Yeah," Kurt replied, adrenaline waking him up like a bucket of ice water dumped over his face. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"Thank you," she said, sniffling a little. "I couldn't ask for a better son-in-law."

Kurt wanted to say more than a hasty, "Thanks," before hanging up, but his son was about to be born, five weeks early, without him. He almost locked himself out of his motel room without his car keys, but eventually he got everything together well enough and got to the hospital, not even caring whether or not he'd parked correctly.

After asking directions twice, Kurt found the surgical waiting room, surprised to see Dr. Van der Hausen there. "What's going on?" he asked, noticing she was dressed in full surgical scrubs. "Is everyone okay?"

"So far so good," the doctor replied. "Noah's doctor called me a few hours ago because I told her I wanted to be the one doing the c-section, since I'm familiar with the situation. We're all prepped and ready to go, but I wanted to ask, could you call Noah's mother and see what she wants to do about that ovary? Now would be the perfect time to remove it."

"So Puck couldn't get pregnant again," Kurt clarified.

"Another pregnancy would probably be even more dangerous than this time, given the amount of scar tissue we're seeing on the ultrasounds. It's for the best."

Kurt thought about it and finally decided, "Leave it. I can't let that decision be made without Noah's okay. It may be a liability, but it's a _part_ of him. I can't just tell you to cut out a part of him, because it might be a problem someday. It's not a tumor or something, right?"

"Right," the doctor nodded. "Okay then. Are you coming in with us?"

"Into surgery?" Kurt asked, dumbstruck. "Why?"

"Your son is being born, Kurt," the doctor smiled, an expression so reminiscent of her daughter's that Kurt almost laughed. "Don't you want to be there? You won't be able to hold him until we get him checked out up in the NICU, but you can see him."

"Yes," Kurt nodded right away. "Yes, yes. Let's do this."

* * *

_I haven't started the next chapter yet, so that might take a while, but hopefully this cliffhanger isn't as bad as the last one. __Let me know what you thought of this chapter and it might prod me into writing some more..._


	17. Names

_So, I got the end figured out, and I'm pretty happy with it._

**Chapter 17 - Names**

The hospital staff cajoled Kurt into a full set of ugly green scrubs (polyester, ugh!) and then covered him in a paper gown, a hat, a mask, and a pair of gloves that were tight across his palms, but too long in the fingers. They stood him in the corner of the room and he was so nervous that he about jumped out of his skin when they pushed Noah's gurney through the swinging doors beside him. They had put a tube down his throat and several more needles in his arms and Kurt wanted to scream at them for torturing Noah, but he knew that the boy felt none of it.

A second team of nurses rolled a tiny gurney with a plastic box on top of it into the room, and Kurt figured that was where Junior was supposed to go once they got him out.

"How long has he been on corticosteroids?" Dr. Van der Hausen asked one of the other doctors, her face covered with a surgical mask and her hands held up in front of her to keep them clean.

"We saw this coming, so about a week. Lung development should be almost complete, by now."

"Great," Brittany's mom nodded, waving at Kurt with a smile in her eyes. "Let's do this. Getting the baby out will only take a few minutes, but we're looking at several hours clean-up due to the unique situation here, people. Hang one bag of O-neg right away and have another one ready right away. Greg, right?" she asked one of the nurses. "Could you grab two more units from the bank? I have a feeling we're gonna need them. And see if they have any AB-neg left. Type-specific would really help us out here."

Kurt's stomach sank as the nurse nodded and left. He'd watched enough Gray's Anatomy to know that though Dr. Van der Hausen's voice sounded upbeat and cheerful, that was _a lot_ of blood to be asking for off the bat. A few more things happened and they put Kurt near Noah's head and the anesthesiologist, so he couldn't see the surgical site behind the cloth screen the surgeons had erected, and then the doctor was asking for a scalpel.

"How's the fetal heartbeat?"

"Dropping, but still in the clear."

"Let's do this. Making the incision now."

"Isn't that cut a little shallow, doctor?"

"There's no uterine wall, Dr. Bantham, and hardly any muscle left. We have to be very careful not to nick the baby. How's the sedation looking? This little guy's a squirmer if I remember right."

"Easing off it now. Need me to keep it going?"

"No, I just need…Nurse, hold this please. Just a few more…"

Kurt wanted to ask what was going on, but he didn't want to distract the doctors either. Brittany's mom was moving quickly and surely, which made Kurt feel a little better until he started thinking about all the things he knew could go wrong. Noah's body wasn't built for this. The doctors had never treated this situation before and it was all best-guesses and wishes, without any real facts. Noah could start bleeding a die before Dr. Van der Hausen could fix it. Junior could be too small to live on his own, even if the doctors had told him once they hit thirty-two weeks that his chances of survival were really good.

Noah might never see his son, the kid he'd fought for and sacrificed so much for over the past eight months. Kurt might be stuck doing this on his own. Yes he had his dad, Carole, and Ruth. Yes, he had friends and a brother. Yes, he could do it, but Kurt really did not want to raise Noah's son by himself.

Then, Dr. Van der Hausen cried, "Ah, I've got the head … and the shoulders. Pulling him out now. Get ready to ventilate if we need to."

Watching with rapturous attention, Kurt saw Dr. Van der Hausen lift up a tiny, red figure before handing him off to one of the nurses. That was his son. Kurt's son lay in the arms of a nurse wearing polka-dot scrubs, way over on the other side of the room. "What…?"

"Chord clamped and severed. Get him breathing, people."

Several people crowded around the incubator and when Kurt heard a tiny little wail above the whooshes and beeps of Noah's monitors, the power of that minute sound tugging at his gut made Kurt stumble. "Whoa, there, dad," the anesthesiologist chuckled, steadying Kurt by the waist until he felt more solidly on his feet and nodded at the man.

"Looking good," another doctor said. "Breath is strong, pulse a little quick, but that's normal."

"Great. You guys get up to the NICU," Dr. Van der Hausen insisted, "and take the new daddy with you, huh? We'll finish up here."

A nurse pulled on Kurt's elbow and as much as he wanted to see his son, he didn't want to leave Noah either. "How is he?" Kurt asked, pointing to his boyfriend. "Is Noah okay?"

"We'll know soon enough," the nurse whispered in his ear. "But it will go better if the doctor has no distractions, alright? Your baby needs you, Dad."

Kurt really didn't want to abandon Puck, but he nodded anyway and followed the incubator down the hallway. He finally got a good look at his son in the elevator, and he looked so small and skinny, his little limbs splayed out everywhere, a band already around one ankle, and his face turned away from Kurt. "Is he alright?"

"Better than we expected," the doctor beside him said softly. "He's tall for being so early," she laughed, "and I'm guessing about five pounds. He started breathing right away, so he should be fine. I'm thinking once we do the full check up, you should be able to hold him."

"But he's so small," Kurt worried, wiping a stray tear on his shoulder.

"We see smaller all the time," she insisted as the elevator doors opened. When the nurses turned the incubator to roll it down the hall, Kurt caught a glimpse of Junior's face and stumbled again, flashing back on all the pictures Burt kept under the coffee table of Kurt's first few months. Junior was scrunched up and smaller, but at one short glance, Kurt could tell that was _his_ son. No question about it.

It took far too long for the hospital staff to look him over, but finally Kurt's son was placed in his arms while he sat in a rocking chair right next to the incubator. They'd placed an oxygen tube in Junior's nose just to make sure and there was an IV in his arm that Kurt had to be careful of, but he was _here_ in Kurt's arms. And Kurt couldn't seem to keep himself from crying.

"Hi, there, Junior," Kurt managed to whisper, wiping his face on his shoulder and wishing his dad was here to show him what to do. Up close, Kurt could see that the baby had his chin and nose. When he opened his eyes, unfocused, they were dark blue and Kurt couldn't breathe until he forced himself to take one long, slow pull of air and let it out slowly. "In case you didn't recognize my voice, I'm your daddy. You probably miss your other dad, but he's got to get better before you can see him," Kurt explained, running one shaking hand over the soft, dark hair on Junior's head.

"Crap," Kurt sighed, running his thumb down the baby's very Puckerman-looking cheek, "I don't know what to call you. We never decided on a name. I don't…"

"Hey," a soft voice said from the doorway, and Ruth Puckerman stepped into the room, sitting on the ottoman at Kurt's knees. "Is this him?"

"Ruth, I don't know what to name him," Kurt said, catching her gaze until his eyes blurred over with tears. "I can't. Not without … how is he?"

"No word yet," Ruth sighed, pushing Kurt's bangs back from his forehead and kissing his cheek before turning to look at the baby in Kurt's arms. "He looks like you, doesn't he?"

"Sort of," Kurt agreed, smiling through the tears when the baby's hand closed around his finger. Never in his wildest dreams had Kurt ever imagined someone this small _looking_ like him, even after he found out Puck was pregnant.

"No sort of about it," Ruth laughed, squeezing one of Kurt's cheeks with her thumb and finger. "He's the spitting image of you, Kurt. You should name him Kurt Junior!"

"Oh, no," Kurt laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm not doing that to him. He needs his own name."

"I'm sure you and Noah will come up with something good when he wakes up," Ruth nodded, petting the baby's hair gently.

Kurt's stomach twisted and he asked, "What if he doesn't?"

"Have faith, dear," Ruth insisted. "I know my son. He's too god damned stubborn not to wake up soon. You'll see."

Kurt nodded, trying to have faith in science and in Brittany's mom and in the fact that Noah couldn't die before Kurt made him understand how much he was loved. "Is my family coming?"

"They're on their way," Ruth nodded, smiling down at the baby.

"Did you want to hold him?"

"No, dear," Ruth shook her head. "Not yet. You hold onto that one. Hopefully in your hands he'll turn out better than his father."

Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled to himself, wondering exactly how big Puck's ego would have been without growing up as Ruth's son, having it verbally beaten into submission whenever possible. Of course, Kurt could also see that Ruth only really meant half the things she said, and he was pretty sure Noah knew it too.

* * *

Puck didn't want to open his eyes, but it was getting too uncomfortable to sleep. Something felt weird and his stomach hurt, and so did his arm if he moved it wrong. The sheet smelled wrong and Noah wondered when his mom had gotten over her hatred of using bleach in the laundry. Come to think of it, this bed was weird too. It was too soft or too hard or something. And the room was dark. That meant he was still supposed to be sleeping right?

At least Kurt was pressed next to him, like usual. Burying his nose in the boy's hair, Puck tried to turn to snuggle in closer, but a deep wave of pain shocked him into waking up all the way.

This wasn't his room, it was the hospital. Why was he in the hospital? Did it have something to do with … Oh, fucking hell!

Puck ripped the sheets back and pulled his gown up, crying out when he realized his stomach was much flatter than it should have been. What happened? Where was the kid? What had happened when he fell? "Kurt?" Puck tried to ask, his throat raw and not working. Panicking, he shook the boy beside him, "Kurt! Kurt, wake up!"

"What?" the boy said, his eyes opening wide when he saw Puck get up in his face. "Noah! You're awake! Oh my god!"

Puck got engulfed in a tight, desperate hug, which made him sure that the baby was gone. Puck had worked so hard trying to keep him safe, but it ended up being just another one of those things he failed at. "I'm sorry," he choked, his voice still a whisper, hugging Kurt tightly and wondering why his arms didn't want to work very well. "I tried so hard to save him."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt cried, backing away and wiping a few tears from his face before getting up on his knees and pushing Puck back onto the mattress with a look that said not to argue. "I thought you were gone!" Kurt kissed him softly and told him, "You were asleep for so long, Noah."

"Wait," Puck crunched up his brow and asked, "how long? Where's the kid? He's dead, isn't he?"

Grinning brightly, Kurt shook his head and jumped off the bed. "Junior's fine," he said as he wheeled one of those open plastic boxes over from the other side of a curtain and picked up a tiny figure wrapped in a blue blanket. Kurt sat down again on the edge of Puck's bed and held up a sleeping baby, whose face was pretty squished up and red beneath the cap on his head.

"That's him?" Puck cried, reaching out before he knew what he was doing to gently prod one lanky cheek. "But he's so big! He shouldn't be this big, Kurt. That can't be him. Who's kid did you steal?"

"Honey," Kurt said softly, pulling the baby close into his arms and rocking him a little when he started to squirm, "you've been asleep for ten weeks. This is our son. Look, I even painted one of his nails so he wouldn't get mixed up," Kurt held out one of the tiny little hands and sure enough, the pinky nail was painted bright red.

"Ten …" Puck rubbed his face, trying to understand. "I've been in, like a coma or something? For _three months_?"

"Ten weeks," Kurt insisted. "Junior was born at four o'clock yesterday morning, a few weeks early, but he's doing really well. Technically he wasn't even premature."

"That's why I feel sliced open again," Puck smiled, pulling Kurt closer by one sleeve so he could see the kid in his boyfriend's arms. "Wait, where are we? Last I remember we were at Regionals and … I remember your solo. What happened after that? I fell again, right?"

Kurt nodded sadly, kissing the baby on his forehead. "You managed not to fall on the kid, but cracked your skull open in the process. You've got another scar now," he brushed his thumb across Puck's forehead, which made Puck shiver and pull Kurt into a kiss. "You saved him, Noah. You kept our little boy safe and it almost cost me you."

The affection in Kurt's eyes made Puck's heart feel way too big and caught in his throat. He had done it. Puck had managed to keep his son safe for something like eight months, long enough that he was healthy and sitting content in Kurt's arms. Already he felt like a better father than his dad, which wasn't saying all that much.

"Can I hold him?"Puck asked, trying not to let Kurt's tears get to him.

"Sure," Kurt nodded, grabbing a long pillow from the chair and setting it on Puck's lap. "Your arms might be a lot weaker than you're used to, so this will help."

Then, Kurt set the baby in Puck's arms and it felt so much like coming home that Puck might have actually sobbed a little, sure Kurt wouldn't tell anyone. "What did you name him?"

Kurt chuckled a little, petting Puck's scalp and making him wonder a little if his Mohawk was still there or if Kurt had shaved it off while he was sleeping. "I didn't name him anything. I was waiting for you to wake up."

Then, the baby yawned and opened his eyes. "What's your middle name?" Puck asked Kurt, feeling silly for not knowing. That was one of the things he should know about the guy he loved, wasn't it?

"I always say it's Elizabeth," Kurt murmured, sticking one of his fingers near the baby's mouth and smiling when he started sucking on it. "But it's actually Jacob."

"That's his name," Puck insisted. "He looks just like you, so he gets your name first."

"Really?" Kurt looked surprised and touched all at once, which made Puck smile and hold his baby a little tighter. "Then what's his middle name?"

"Ethan," Puck decided. "Like mine."

"Jacob Ethan," Kurt smiled, kissing Puck's temple. "I like it. But he gets your last name, I insist."

"He's so awesome he gets both last names," Puck said, dipping closer to smell the baby's skin and kiss his forehead, like all his instincts were telling him to do. "Hey, whatever happened at Regionals?"

"We won," Kurt smiled. "Your mother practically blackmailed me into going with everyone to New York two weeks ago. By the way, remind me to show you the pictures later. There's some pretty funny ones in there."

"Finn?" Puck asked with a laugh, remembering how his ex-best friend always managed to look like a mentally challenged goof on film.

"Yeah. We didn't place at Nationals," he told Puck, "but we didn't come in last either and I think Rachel's still celebrating. Everyone missed you, baby."

Puck sighed and smiled when the kid grabbed his finger in one hell of a grip. "Next year, we'll have this awesome dude cheering us on from the stands. What judge could resist that?"

Kurt laughed and brought over a bottle of milk or formula or something, helping Puck guide it toward the little guy's mouth. He started sucking right away, gulping down his food like any son of Puck should.

"Noah?" When he sat down on the side of the bed, draping one arm across Puck's shoulders, Kurt whispered, "I want you to know I love you. I'm sorry I never said it earlier."

"Yeah?" Puck smiled, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. "I _knew_ it. I knew you loved me, Hummel," he teased. "No one can resist the Puckasaurus."

Kurt huffed through a smile and wrapped both arms around Puck, helping him hold the baby. Man, his arms were getting tired super fast and his belly hurt, but he wasn't about to give this up anytime soon. Quietly, as he watched their baby's eyes fall closed again, Puck whispered, "I love you, too."

_

* * *

_

_Finis! (Except for the Epilogue next Chapter)  
_

_So, let me know what you thought! This prompt, given by ice-whisper over on the LJ puckurt fic meme, was so much fun to write, and I hope I did it justice, but it just feels really good to be done._


	18. Epilogue  A Day at the Beach

_This was prompted on the LJ Puckurt fic meme by lezi, and came along with an awesome picture, which you can find at _weheartit .com/ entry/ 5162017

**A Day at the Beach**

"Oh, look at what a cute baby he is!" a girl said as she approached the blanket where Puck and his son were lounging, dressed in their best beach gear. Puck wore red board shorts and a short-sleeved button-down, which he left open to show off his hard-re-earned chest and abs, the scars barely visible anymore, thank god. The kid's outfit, though - that was a different story. "Where did you get that shark costume? It's adorable!"

Both Puckermans smiled at the attention. Hey, like father, like son, right? "Internet," Puck replied, sitting up and giving the bikini-and-beach-towel-clad girl a flirty smile. Hey, no one said he couldn't look!

A brief thought of, _Score!_, ran through the back of Puck's head when the girl sat down beside them on the sand and reached out for the baby, letting him grab one of her fingers and smiling hugely at the boy, her eyes open and wide. "What's his name?"

"Jack," Puck replied, telling the girl his own personal nickname for the kid. So what if the birth certificate said Jacob Ethan Puckerman-Hummel? Puck thought every day the kid looked more and more like a Jack.

Putting on a baby voice that had Puck trying not to wince at its cutesiness, the girl said, "Has Jack been in the water yet today?"

"Jack says all of about two words, babe," Puck smirked, picking up the kid and zooming him high overhead so he smiled and giggled in that way girls loved. "So he won't be able to tell you that no, he hasn't been in the water yet, has he?" Puck brought the kid down toward his face quickly, which made Jack squeal and grab Puck's face, gnawing on his father's nose a little before Puck's arms lifted him high up again.

"Where's Jack's mommy?" the girl asked, inching a little closer toward them and shading her eyes with one hand as she smiled up at the kid, who made wet, zooming airplane noises until Puck got sick of the impromptu shower and brought him in for a landing.

"Yeah," Puck said, readjusting his son's shark costume and wondering when the heck they would be allowed in the water to freak out the other swimmers with Jack's own personal blend of Puckerman-Hummel cute/badassness, "I'm pretty much mommy."

"Poor thing," the girl frowned, reaching forward, through the foam shark teeth to tickle Jack's chin. If Puck wasn't sure the chick was lamenting Jack's lack of a female parent, he'd feel a little offended. But hey, at least the baby made an awesome chick magnet. Or, you know, dick magnet if Kurt was the one holding him, since the dude was so obviously gay. Hook, line and sinker, the girl shrugged one shoulder as she caught Puck's eye and said, "I'm Stacy, by the way."

Too bad Puck couldn't do any more than admire the scenery. Well, he _could_, but Kurt would get freaking pissed. Talking to her didn't count against him much more than scenery-admiring, right? "Noah," Puck replied, since Stacy looked like the kind of chick who wouldn't appreciate his nickname. Some chicks really loved it and some hated it, and Puck had gotten really good at telling the difference.

"Noah," she repeated with a flirty smile. God, he missed boobs! He didn't miss them enough to do anything stupid about it, but his eyes kept flicking down to where this Stacy chick's sweater puppies looked like they were trying to escape her purple bikini top. Nice."How old is Jack?"

Setting his son down on the blanket by several of his toys, Puck replied, "A few weeks shy of a year. It was rough, but we made it," he laid down next to Jack so he could see the kid's face, "didn't we, bud?"

The baby laughed and grabbed Puck's nose. Damn, it was time to trim those razor-sharp nails again. Usually Kurt was all over that shit, giving the little guy baby manicures and facials while Puck wasn't looking (read: pretended not to look so Kurt would be happy). In response to the nose-grabbing, Puck tried to gnaw on Jack's fingers, which made him squeal in delight. More chicks looked over at them and Puck sort of felt like beaming. Yeah, he had made this little bundle of cute, and Puck knew how appealing that made him to all those chicks with audible baby-clocks.

But then Kurt got back from the truck in his sexy beach clothes (trunks and a designer wife-beater that showed off his long, toned limbs) and that stupid dorky Huckleberry Finn straw hat. He ruined everything by kneeling down on the blanket next to them and kissing Puck on the cheek. All those fine ladies sighed and turned away and when Kurt asked, "Who's this, sweetie?" about Stacy, the girl looked almost shocked.

"An admirer," Puck replied with a self-satisfied smirk as he sat up and put Jack in his lap so Kurt could apply the forgotten-in-the-car organic, baby-safe sunscreen. "Stacy, Kurt. Kurt, Stacy. She wanted to know where we got the shark costume."

"_You _got this ridiculous monstrosity of infant fashion, Puck. _You_. Don't go making me complicit in your crimes against our son's dignity. The only reason I agreed to this was because of the modicum of sun protection it provides." Then, he turned to Stacy and said, "Thank you for stopping by and asking after Jacob's apparel. I'm sure he appreciated the attention."

Apparently Stacy knew a non-dismissal dismissal when she heard one, because she gathered up her things and said a soft, "Bye," before escaping the beach.

"Dude," Puck frowned as Kurt continued to slather sunscreen on the kid, "you didn't have to be such a dick. She was nice!"

"She wanted to be Jake's mommy, hon," Kurt sighed jealously, meeting Puck's eyes with one raised brow. "I know you're not as stupid about these things as you pretend to be. Please, just ignore any further suitors. For me?"

When Kurt put it that way, looking up at Puck through his lashes and under that ridiculously cute hat, Puck couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, alright, baby. You know you're the only one for me."

Kurt smiled and finished applying the sunscreen, saying, "Alright. Ten minutes to dry and Jake will be ready to go. Take off your shirt."

"Okay," Puck agreed, not quite sure where Kurt was going with this since there was a baby on the blanket beside them and about a hundred other people on the beach. When Kurt moved around behind Puck and started slathering his back with sunscreen, Puck complained, "Oh, come on! I was gonna work on my tan today."

"No you're not," Kurt insisted, pushing a stupid-ass fishing hat down onto Puck's head for good measure. "If you get melanoma and die, your mother will kill me and then Jake will be an orphan. Just wear the damn sunscreen."

Huffing in annoyance, Puck readjusted his hat and corrected, "Jack."

"Jake," Kurt argued. "We are not calling our son after your favorite brand of liquor."

"But, he looks more like a Jack."

"Jake," Kurt insisted, flicking the back of Puck's ear and then when Puck whipped around daring him with one upraised eyebrow to do something about it in this sea of witnesses.

Feeling uncomfortably like his hands were tied when it came to retaliation, Puck growled, "Jack!"

"Jake!" Kurt insisted, though he looked a lot cooler than Puck felt.

"Jack!"

"Jake!"

Then, the kid spoke up for the first time all day and squealed something that sounded suspiciously like, "Jock!"

Puck met Kurt's eyes and they both broke into laughter, their disagreement abandoned for the time being. "Oh dear god," Kurt chuckled, "it's starting already."

"What?" Puck asked, pulling Kurt into his arms as the guy finished his coat of sunscreen.

"Our son is going to be exactly like you, Noah," Kurt sighed, "even though technically I'm more related to him than you are."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, still not sure about Dr. Wu's explanation of Jack's blood type. Something about Puck being a chimera and double fertilization and his almost twin sister in the womb, which he did not understand at all. "But I lugged this dude around for eight months. He'll take after me if he knows what's good for him."

Kurt laughed and tugged Puck's arms closer around him. "What should we do first?"

"It's fucking hot out," Puck observed, shading his eyes and looking up at the perfectly blue sky, "we should get in the water first. Cool off a bit."

"You two go ahead," Kurt agreed, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen. "I'll catch up when I'm dry. Oh, and you owe me a dollar."

"What for?" Puck asked, throwing down the hat and hauling Jack back toward them by the back of his costume, just under the back fin, when he stood up and tried to make a break for it. Puck sort of thought the point of pooling his and Kurt's money was to not have to ask for it from each other.

"You said the f-word in front of the baby," Kurt explained, carefully spreading the sunscreen on his arms in a way that definitely didn't make Puck wish they were alone at home. Not at all, damn it.

"He won't remember a fucking thing," Puck insisted, picking Jack up and settling him on one hip as they stood. "He's not even a year old."

"But he will start repeating sounds," Kurt pointed out, squinting up at them. "If he swears in front of your nana, not even I can save you, Noah Puckerman-Hummel. And _two _dollars."

Bracing Jack against his chest with both hands, Puck leaned down to kiss Kurt on the lips, smirking when he said, "Fine, baby. But fuck you if you think I'm not gonna teach him to swear when he's older. There are some things a dude should know how to do."

Kurt laughed and nodded, practically singing, "Three dollars!" as he bent back down to his task.

Walking toward the edge of the water, Puck turned to his kid and asked, "Do you believe that shit, Jack? Your daddy thinks he can call all the shots, doesn't he?"

Jack nodded vigorously, his blue eyes crinkled up in pleasure. Puck kept wondering if they were going to darken into hazel, like his, but he kind of liked the fact that their son had Kurt's eyes.

"Wanna go for a swim and freak out all these peeps with your awesome swimming costume, dude?" Puck asked as he stepped into the shallow water. For it being early in the summer, the lake water was blissfully warm. It helped that this was one of the shallowest lakes around Lima. Pretty soon, after the move, they were going to have to find a good beach out in LA. Maybe then Puck could finally learn how to surf and he could teach Jack when the kid was older and better at balancing, and then he and his son could go out and show off all their sweet moves together. He would teach Jack how to surf and how to play guitar and ride a motorcycle and chase the ladies (or the dudes - whatever he wanted) and play pranks on Kurt and to be a Jew. Puck would be the kind of dad he'd never had.

As he waded further into the water, Puck asked his son, "What sound does a shark make?"

Leaning down toward the water happily, Jack roared loudly.

"Totally, dude," Puck laughed, wading in a little deeper until he could roll to float on his back, Jake-the-shark safe on his chest. The baby roared again, startling an older couple off to Puck's left, and Puck decided he had the coolest, most badass, kid ever.

* * *

"How's he doing?" Kurt asked as he joined his husband and their kid in the water. Jake was dog-paddling a little bit, but it looked like he was mostly being held afloat by Puck's strong hand under his chest.

"Good," Puck smirked, pulling Kurt closer with his free hand and kissing Kurt's temple. "We freaked out a bunch of people and Jack was flirting with those chicks over there."

"Oh, _Jake _was flirting, hmm?" Kurt asked, settling his back against Puck's chest and pulling the baby close, wondering if the blue tint to his lips meant they should head in, despite the rapturous look on Jake's face, like he'd never had this much fun, ever.

"I swear," Puck insisted, arms around Kurt's waist and chin at Kurt's shoulder as Kurt took over the baby-lifeguard duties. A kiss to the side of his neck made Kurt shiver and notice a less-than-accepting look from a few of their fellow swimmers.

"We should get you two back onto dry land," Kurt suggested. "Jake looks a little chilly."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe build a sandcastle?" Puck asked, following closely as Kurt held Jake and carried him out of the water. A breeze came by and though the sun was almost blistering-hot, the wind over his wet skin was a little cold and Kurt held Jake closer to make sure he didn't get hypothermia. The baby snuggled against him readily, which never failed to make Kurt smile.

As they got to the blankets and towels, Kurt wrapped his son in one towel, threw a second over his shoulder at Puck, and used the third to dab the lake water from his own skin. A year ago, Kurt doubted he'd allow a drop of questionably-hygienic water to touch his skin, much less go swimming in it, but Jacob and Puck both seemed to love the water, and Kurt didn't want to be left behind. Besides, it wasn't that bad, once you got used to it.

"Here," Kurt insisted, shoving a bucket toward Puck, "Bring back some water so we can build that sandcastle of yours."

Puck crouched down for another kiss, a gesture Kurt hadn't been sure for most of his life that he'd receive so readily and so publicly, before saying, "Whatever you want, babe."

While his husband was gone for the fifteen seconds it took to go get a bucket of water, Kurt seriously considered sabotaging the shark suit. Sure, Jake seemed to like wearing it, but really? He looked so much cuter in normal (if designer-knock-off) baby clothes. Why did Puck insist on dressing him up in this monstrosity of teeth and badly-proportioned fins? Was it because Puck had taken it upon himself to show Jake how to be a 'real man' and sharks were the manliest thing he could think of? Or was Puck just a little touched in the head from all that drinking he'd done before Jacob came along?

Puck returned with a big grin before Kurt could make up his mind, pouring the water onto the sand near their blanket and quickly going back for another bucketful. Five trips and one soaked blanket corner later, Puck busied himself making a sandcastle while Jake sat beside him and watched, playing with a sand-shovel that Puck had given him.

Kurt watched his two boys with a smile on his face. They'd made it this far. He and Puck had both graduated high school and if Puck didn't get into a school this year, at least he'd found a job out in LA. The deal was, Puck would support them as a certified mechanic while Kurt got his degree, and then once Kurt found a job, Puck would go back to school (provided he hadn't made it big as a badass rock star by then). They might not see all of their dreams come true, but at least they could be happy right?

When Kurt looked up, he saw more than one woman scoping out Puck, who was telling Jake exactly what he was doing and why, "See little dude? You gotta get the sand packed in there real good, otherwise your castle's gonna fall apart." Jealous of the fond (and in some cases predatory) way everyone was looking at his husband, Kurt found that dumb-looking fishing hat his father had leant them and stuck it back on Puck's head, citing melanoma and unfortunate Mohawk-shaving incidents.

Kurt sighed and watched the scene for a few more minutes, wondering if he should get his hands dirty and step in to fix exactly what Puck was doing wrong, when Jake took a big handful of wet sand and brought it to his mouth. "No!" Kurt cried, lunging forward and grabbing the baby's hands as gently as he could. "We don't eat sand, Jacob!" The little boy and his grown-up-boy father both looked up at Kurt like he was overreacting.

"It's just sand. He'll figure out it's no good to eat right away," Puck scoffed, going back to his sandcastle while Kurt rolled his eyes.

"And get _E. coli_ in the process. Really, dear, it's a wonder Jake's made it a year without you seriously endangering his life in some way."

"Relax, baby," Puck replied, rolling over to put his head in Kurt's lap and look up at him. "You worry too much. Jack's a tough little guy. He can handle it. Gotta let him make his own mistakes sometimes, you know?" Without waiting for Kurt to respond, Puck reached over and grabbed Jake, pulling the baby to lie out on his chest and brushing some sand from the backs of his pudgy little legs. "Isn't that right, Jack? Your daddy worries way too fucking much, doesn't he?"

Kurt laughed, running a hand through Puck's short Mohawk and leaning in, whispered, "Four dollars."

The only response he got was a chuckle before Puck curled upward and blew a loud raspberry on Jake's neck, making the baby squeal with delight. Yeah, okay. Maybe Kurt did worry too much. But one of them had to, right? Right.


End file.
